After the ship had broken through the upper atmosphere, Scott got a good view of the east coast of the United States, which meant the ship was in a near vertical dive towards the ground. Scott shook his head, he was impressed. Once he had identified the White House as the most likely location of the president the day before, the data must have been fed to the ships navigational systems, and now they were just taking the most direct route to their destination.
There was limited cloud cover over the mid-Atlantic, and Scott could already identify the District of Columbia from his time on the ISS, and at the rate the shuttle was dropping, he estimated they’d be on the ground in under sixty seconds.
Scott wasn’t sure what kind of reception they’d receive when they landed, and he was particularly worried about the way his behaviour and interactions with the aliens would be perceived. Worst case scenario was he’d be charged with some form of treason and spend the rest of his years behind bars. Perhaps the outcome he feared the most.
When the shuttle finally started to slow, Scott couldn’t feel any G’s on his body, just another party-trick in the capabilities of the alien technology that kept surprising the American astronaut.
“Where should we land?”
Scott whipped his head around to see Sajoba standing just half a metre away, a floating translation device in the air between them.
“South side of the main building.” Scott replied. He was fairly confident that his answer was the correct one, but he hadn’t been to the White House in over a decade, and he had not visited the south lawn on that visit.
Sajoba relayed the information towards the front of the bridge, then looked back at Scott. “When we land, you will lead us out. The troops and droids will stay on the shuttle.”
Scott nodded. It seemed that Sajoba didn’t fear or anticipate any resistance. He hoped they were right, he didn’t feel like getting shot in the cross-fire.
“Okay.” Scott said calmly.
When the engine finally cut off it was followed by silence. Absolute silence. Scott looked out to the front of the ship, and he could spot a part of the White House. It wasn’t a large slice that was in view, but enough to tell him that he was in ground zero Washington DC.
“Showtime.” Scott said to himself in a hushed voice and got up from the jump-seat he had been sat in and moved towards the door of the shuttle where a fully armed trooper was already standing.
Sajoba walked up to Scott and looked him in the eyes. “I trust that there will be no issues.”
Scott smiled and shook his head. “I can’t guarantee a thing.”
Sajoba stood in silence for a moment, then leaned past Scott and hit the hatch opening switch, and allowed the shuttle door to open, letting the cold DC air into the shuttle. Scott wasn’t dressed for the weather and shivered a bit when the cooler air hit his body.
Scott looked out of the hatch. He could clearly make out the rear entrance to the White House, it was just over fifty yards away. “Okay.” He said then turned to face the building. “Let’s do this.”
While the exterior of the building may have been devoid of obvious security emplacements, the interior was an entirely different story. Once Scott had pushed open the doors he had spotted an improvised defensive barricade set up and manned by heavily armed members of the United States Secret Service down the entry hallway.
Scott held the door open for Sajoba, who slipped in behind him, the blast shield on his helmet down and secured.
“Halt!”
One of the Secret Service members came out from behind the improvised blockade, rifle pointed towards Scott and Sajoba.
“Captain Bader?”
“Yes.”
“Sorry, Sir, but we’ll need to search your person.”
“Fine.” Scott stayed where he was standing, and waited for two agents to move forward and give the astronaut a quick pat down. Once they were finished, they looked at Sajoba, then back to Captain Bader.
“And your guest.”
Scott shook his head. “I wouldn’t advise that.” He said dryly.
A message was relayed from their position all the way to the Oval Office that Captain Bader and a guest were inside and that the guest wasn’t interested in being fondled. After a quick and heavy debate, permission was given for the duo to proceed to see the president.
When Scott and Sajoba finally started moving, Scott tried to recall his last visit to the White House but didn’t remember any of what he saw around him. Then again, he hadn’t entered through the rear of the building, and it had been some years. While Scott trailed the agents to his front, while Sajoba kept his position two paces behind Scott, and he was in turn followed by a pack of agents.
When the pair finally reached the doors to the Oval Office, they were met by the President’s Chief of Staff, Nicholas Beaudrot.
“Captain Bader.” Nick put his hand out.
“Sir.” Scott gave a firm handshake.
Nick looked past Scott to the alien dressed in the grey armour that was heavily accented in red. “I’m used to seeing more green on uniforms from our visitors on Earth.” He said dryly. “It would seem things have changed rapidly.”
Scott nodded. “It would, Sir.” Scott turned and motioned to Sajoba. “This is Base Commander Sajoba. He is second in command of the Coalition forces.”
Nick looked at the armoured individual. “I don’t see a translation device.” He said, looking at Scott.
“This suit has one built in, Mr Chief of Staff.” Sajoba stated in a voice that came from the suit in a very mechanical tone.
Nick raised his eyebrows and looked back at the armoured alien. “Very well.” Nick tapped the toe of his shoe on the carpet twice, then looked back to Sajoba, then to Scott. “I suppose you’re both here to see the President, not me, so we may as well get on with it.” Nick turned and looked at the agent that was standing closest to the door and nodded.
The agent quickly brought up his concealed microphone to his mouth and whispered something, then slowly opened the large door to the Oval Office.
Nick put out his arm, “After you, Captain.”
Scott looked into Nick’s eyes, then looked over to the opening door. Moment of truth, he thought to himself, and started walking forward, past the agent, and into the holiest room in American politics.
The room was just like he remembered it, only this time it was a full house in attendance. Scott immediately spotted the President standing behind the Resolute desk, while a large group of advisors and officials were standing up near the room's couches.
Scott quickly switched back into military mode, straightened his back and brought his head up and marched straight towards the front of the President’s desk and saluted.
“Sir, Captain Scott Bader, United States Navy.”
President Bednarik responded with a quick salute. “Stand easy, Captain.” Bednarik let his eyes drift to the alien presence that was in the room before looking back to Scott. “Would you introduce your guest?”
Scott nodded and turned his body so that he could see Sajoba, who was standing just inside the door. “This, Mr President, is Base Commander Sajoba. Second-in-command of the fleet in orbit.”
Sajoba moved forward towards the desk, while his blast shield moved up, and then slid back along the top of his helmet. He said nothing, but paused a metre from the desk and looked at the man behind it for some time before turning to survey the rest of the room. After two minutes of silence, Sajoba moved to one of the open chairs next to the couches where the advisors were stood and sat down.
Scott looked at the President, then to Sajoba who was sat with his back to the desk. “Mr President?”
Bednarik nodded. “Captain.” He said, waving Scott towards the couches, before walking around his desk quickly, and heading to the chair furthest from the desk, and on the other side of his advisors from where Sajoba had sat down.
Scott waited for the President to take his place before sitting down next to Sajoba, as the consultants too
k their seats, with Nick Beaudrot taking his seat next to the President last.
Scott sat nervously in his seat. He was conscious that he hadn’t taken a proper shower in many days, and that his flight-suit was unkempt and he looked in need of a shave. It certainly wasn’t how he wanted to appear in front of the men and women sat in front of him. Scott also wasn’t sure of how to proceed, but luckily the President started.
“Base Commander, what right do you have to attack this planet?” The President asked in a raised voice. “We have done nothing to offend the Coalition, and do not deserve this kind of treatment.”
Scott looked at Sajoba who was sat motionless in his armour. He wasn’t sure if the suit required more time to translate correctly, or if the Base Commander was just considering his rebuttal.
“You will be wise to avoid all attempts to reach the four locations on this world with Coalition personnel. The only reason that your world has not been turned into a cinder box is because my leadership does not wish to inflict undue suffering upon your species, but if you get out of line, we will murderise everything on this planet.” Sajoba abruptly stood up, flipped down the blast shield on his helmet and walked to the door that he and Scott had come through just moments early, which was quickly opened by a Secret Service agent and disappeared into the reception area for the Oval Office.
“Where’s he going?” Asked General Anderson, looking at Scott.
Bader just shrugged his shoulders. “No idea, Sir.”
And then the lights went out.
“What the?” Exclaimed Zach North, the National Security Advisor.
“All power is down, Sir.” Reported the head of the Secret Service detail. “We’re trying to get the generators online.”
Scott looked across at the President. “EMP.” He said calmly.
“Are you sure?” Asked the CIA director, Angela Simmons.
“That’s how they dealt with the missiles from Israel and Pakistan. Focused EMP burst. They could have targeted just this building or the whole world.” Scott said.
“What?” Asked the President.
“He did it.” Andy Barnham, the Secretary of Energy, said with a hint of excitement looking at a small handheld device in his hands. “He shut down the Earth.” Barnham looked up from his device, which had gone blank, a look of total disbelief on his face.
13
Traxis
17 January
Colonel Joe Hunt woke up with a splitting headache and a foggy memory. When he sat up, he wasn’t even sure where he was. The room had light blue coloured walls that looked like velvet, and other than the bed that he was on, the only other feature was a small desk with a chair next to it. Joe’s clothing was sprinkled around on the floor of the room.
Rubbing his head, he tried to remember what had happened over the course of the last few hours but was coming up blank. He knew that he and Rhea had had a meeting with Admiral Taark, but after that, things got blurry. Speaking of Rhea, she wasn’t in the room, and while Joe wasn’t worried about her wellbeing, it was a good enough reason to get out of bed and get on with his day.
Swinging his legs off the bed, Joe picked up his trousers and pulled them on before standing up, and putting on the rest of his clothes. Sitting back down on the edge of the bed Joe pulled his socks on before finally putting on his Converse.
Rubbing his hair, he tried to blink himself awake, before kneeling onto the floor of the room and knocking out twenty quick push-ups. The blood finally flowing again, Joe sprung to his feet and walked to the door.
Joe was familiar enough with the keypads used by the Alliance and after a quick look at his options, mashed one of the buttons and watched the door slid to the side, and out of view.
Sticking his head out of the door, Joe realised he was on a corridor that was relatively featureless and looking just like the interior of his room in styling. Not seeing anyone in sight, Joe stepped out of his room and was quickly addressed by an invisible speaker system.
“Colonel Hunt, please turn to your right and proceed to the hatch at the end of the hallway.” The voice cut out.
Joe didn’t waste any time and did as he was told. The door at the end of the hallway opened as he approached, and he was met with a spectacular view through a massive window down towards the planet Traxis. The planet reminded Joe of Earth and was covered in splotches of green and blue, and while Joe had never been down to the surface, the planet looked very inviting.
Stepping closer to the window, Joe looked away from the globe to the stars and noticed the myriad of spacecraft of various size and description that was in view. Some coming and going from the station, while others looking like they were going down to the planet’s surface. Off in the distance, Joe watched as a medium sized vessel slowed to a crawl before vanishing from view, jumping to another sector of the Etelainen no doubt.
Joe didn’t notice the droid walk up next to him until the machine announced its presence. “Colonel Hunt. Your presence is requested in the Level Three conference room.”
Joe turned his attention away from the fantastic view and looked at the robot. It was almost like a stick figure with a central body, two tiny arms and a head that reminded Joe of a pizza box all atop a set of rubberised tracks.
“Lead away.” Joe said, taking one last look at the view.
The robot didn’t respond, but made a whirling noise as it turned and rolled away from Joe.
The conference room wasn’t really a conference room, or at least what Joe thought a meeting room should look like. It had more of a feeling of some kind of secure intelligence suite. There was a large circular table in the centre of the room, but there was also a significant number of what looked like counter surveillance systems within the chamber and no boards or walls on which to hang anything or conduct a real presentation, at least in Joe’s mind.
When Joe finally stopped thinking about the room, he started to notice who was in it and quickly recognised everyone except one individual who was standing at the far end of the chamber talking to Rhea Stokes.
“Colonel.” Admiral Taark walked up to Joe.
“Sir.” Joe nodded his head in a mini-bow.
The Admiral indicated the jet-black alien that was standing next to him. “You remember Etsiva Controller Roper Daz from yesterday?”
Joe looked at the best-dressed alien he had met since the Epsilon had crashed on Earth and smiled. “I do.” Joe took another look at the dark green uniform that Daz was wearing, and smiled when he got down to the beautiful boots the intelligence officer was wearing.
“Of course, you know Ship Master Ranix.” The admiral pointed to the blue-skinned alien that Joe knew all too well, who had just joined Rhea in discussion at the other end of the room.
“Who is that Doctor Stokes is speaking to?” Joe asked of the stranger in the room.
“That is Royal Inspector Wey, the most senior of all intelligence and enforcement officials in the Etelainen. He answers to no one except her Majesty the Princess, and has sweeping powers.” Daz replied. “He jumped in from Mechcharga just recently after I informed him of your discoveries.”
Joe nodded and looked at the Inspector who was light brown in skin tone, was wearing a uniform similar to Roper Daz, but apparently not as elegantly presented.
“Seats, if you please.” The admiral said, moving towards a chair that was furthest from the door that Joe had entered.
Joe walked around the table to where Rhea was standing and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Seems you left me in bed this morning.” He said with a smile.
Rhea looked at Joe with her eyebrows raised. “You were dead to the world, love.”
Joe smiled and looked for a place to sit. There were six seats at the table, with Admiral Taark at the head, with Royal Inspector Wey sat on his left, and Etsiva Controller Roper Daz on his right. Ship Master Ranix had taken a seat next to the Royal Inspector, and Joe took the seat next to his comrade.
“Ranix.” Joe said in a hushed voice.
> Ranix looked over at Joe, a solemn look on his face.
“Everything alright?” Joe asked, slightly concerned at the demeanour of someone he knew to normally be in high spirits.
“The Epsilon got pretty banged up jumping out of Earth.” He said dryly. “We jumped inside the atmosphere and took a Coalition destroyer with us. Something must have happened in sub-space because we emerged into real space with considerable damage. Not sure how long she’ll be down for.”
Joe nodded and looked around the table. While Ranix might have had the only downcast expression at the table, there certainly wasn’t any joy on the faces of those present. He wasn’t surprised. He had a fifty-fifty chance guessing what this meeting was about, and neither was a rosy subject at the moment.
The Admiral opened by introducing everyone at the table, a snapshot of the necessary biographies to give everyone enough information to know who they were dealing with. After that, he turned the meeting over to Roper Daz.
“Thank you, Sir.” He turned and looked across the table at Wey. “And thank you, Sir, for coming here with so little information to go off on such short notice.” Daz picked up a datapad that was in front of him. “After discussions with Ship Master Ranix after his return from Terra, the Epsilon’s Sentinel Commander, and Colonel Hunt and Doctor Stokes, it is the opinion of the 7th Fleet’s intelligence division that there is an extremely high probability that there is an ongoing conspiracy to extend the War of Succession.” He made the statement not to the table, but directly to Royal Inspector Wey who was sat across from him.
“Based on information obtained by the aforementioned individuals, I believe that there is little doubt that an unknown individual or group of individuals is exerting influence to maintain the status quote, and to ensure that the conflict with the Coalition continues.” Daz put down his datapad and looked around the table before stopping on Wey. “I have filed an official report, which is in your datapad, Sir.”
Edge of the Vortex Page 8
