Edge of the Vortex

by Donald B McFarlane

  Sajoba smiled. “I look forward to hearing from you.”

  “You’ll receive payment as soon as I do.”

  They parted ways. Sajoba walked back along the umbilical with a smile on his face.

  47

  Mechcharga

  18 April

  The conspirators on Mechcharga were getting nervous. They might have sealed some of their leaks and eliminated some of the individuals that they saw as a threat, but the disappearance of Admiral Lex gave them great cause for concern.

  “Where has he gone?” High Councillor Omeg Zaloo asked.

  “No one knows. He took the Five to Bern 36 and gave the entire crew shore-leave.” Master Nune answered, taking a sip from his glass. “We need to expect the worst.”

  “Lex is the least of our problems. The Grand Marshall has declared a fleet-wide hold on offensive operations and is going to propose a cease-fire to the Princess that includes measures to stop the war at all costs.” Royal Councillor Valoris shook his head. “I don’t know how a warrior like the Grand Marshall can halt the war without victory.”

  “Perhaps he has had too much of a taste of war.” Elder Vox chimed in. He was dressed to his usually excessive standards in a bright pink costume with a massive green neckless.

  “Well, where does leave us?” Hyrm Marolous, another Royal Councillor, asked. “If we shut everything down now, and go back to our regular duties, where does that leave us? That Terran is going around conducting her investigation. Is she still a threat?”

  There was silence in the room for a moment.

  “I don’t think things can ever go back to the way they were.” Valoris said. “I believe that it is time to take our profits and leave.”

  “Leave?”

  “Yes.” He looked at Valoris. “Leave.”

  “And go where? And don’t say the Solven Gap.” He shook his head. “Bender might find us there if he is out for vengeance.”

  “I’m not talking about the Solven Gap. It’s too obvious a planet to run to. I’m thinking something still within the control of the Etelainen, but quiet.”

  “And all we’ve worked for? All these years?”

  “It was always about the money, not the power. The power was just a mechanism for us to acquire more wealth. And we all have enough of that.” He put down his drink. “If the war is winding down, and there is an investigation underway trying to track us down, I propose we cover our tracks as best as possible, then slip away. Preferably on ships with untraceable jump drives and go our separate ways.”

  “And if, once the dust has settled, they decide to track us down?”

  Master Nune laughed. “With the amount of resources that we will have, we will be untouchable. They’ll never track us down if we’re smart. There are over forty-thousand planets in the old Empire where we could go. Or we could go beyond the Reach.” He shook his head. “If the Grand Marshall is able to pull off a peace treaty with the Coalition, it’ll take years to come together, and then reconstitute the Empire. Years. Years.” He picked up his drink and took another sip.

  “So, what happens now?”

  “Get all your assets liquid. While you’re doing that, figure out where you’re going and how you’re going to get there.” He pointed at Elder Vox. “And whatever you do, don’t tell anyone about it. I don’t want to know where you’re going.”

  Valoris nodded. “We need to be off-world within a week. Before this female Terran can get close to us.”

  Everyone nodded in agreement.

  48

  Jax Ar 2R

  20 April

  Joe wasn’t sure what was actually driving Admiral Taark’s blind faith in trying free the Earth from the clutches of the Coalition, maybe it had something to do with the fact that Master Doctor Prure had survived on the world and Taark felt obliged to repay the service, or maybe it was something else. What did surprise Joe was the fact that the Admiral was ready and willing to ignore the instructions of the Grand Marshall. Then again, Joe was a bit of a rogue himself, and perhaps he was rubbing off on the admiral.

  “Jump complete.” The announcement came in over the PA system. Joe was still on the command ship of the reconnaissance squadron, and they had just entered the Jax system. If they were going to pull off a rescue of Earth, they’d need ground assets.

  Exiting the room he was using, Joe walked down the cramped corridor until he reached a set of stairs, which he took up one level, where he continued to proceed forward until he reached the command room, which was located just aft of the bridge. Taark and Val-Lar were already waiting for him.

  “Colonel.”

  “Admiral.” Joe replied.

  “I’ve informed the training facility to expect us shortly. We’ll meet with the head instructor, and Major Tattersall once we’re on the surface.” Taark looked at Val-Lar. “How long do we have?”

  Val-Lar looked at her datapad. “They are supposed to depart for a training exercise in three hours, off-world.”

  The admiral nodded. “Joe, I know you and Val-Lar have worked up plans for the attack on Terra, but it will take some time to coordinate all the necessary pieces.”

  Joe nodded.

  “Right. Let us get down to the surface.” The admiral said, walking towards the exit of the room.

  The planet was more barren than Joe was expecting. From his view as the shuttle descended, it looked like an endless desert with a few hills and mountains scattered about and barely any signs of water. The shuttle set down in the middle of an open plain, and the side hatch opened letting in the hot, humid outside air.

  “Where the hell are we?” Joe asked out loud, walking out of the shuttle.

  Val-Lar walked up next to him. “These were the coordinates that the senior instructor gave to our pilot.”

  Joe nodded and rolled up his sleeves, it was too damn hot for his liking. Certainly after spending so much time inside climate controlled ships. Or perhaps he was just getting a little soft. After kicking the dirt for five minutes, a ship appeared on the horizon.

  The transport on the horizon covered the distance to Joe and company quickly, and came to a dramatic stop, the side hatches open the entire time. Setting down, the thrusters kicked up a considerable amount of sand into the air. Joe covered his eyes with his arm, and when he opened them, two figures emerged from the shuttle, both wearing olive coloured capes that were flapping in the wind. He recognised Major Tattersall at once, but he was struck by the other figure that was walking towards him.

  When Mike was five metres from Joe, he offered a salute which Joe returned, then reached out his hand. “Welcome to Jax 2R AR, Colonel.” He looked at the man next to him. “This is Dynamic Operator Master Grade Kol Fine.”

  Joe looked at the figure. He looked absolutely badass in his uniform consisting of captured Coalition armour and a dramatic cape fluttering in the wind. “A pleasure to meet you, Master Grade.”

  Fine stepped away from Mike and motioned to Admiral Taark to join him in a sidebar. Joe watched the two aliens converse, then looked back to Mike.

  “How goes the training?” He asked.

  “It’s going. We’ve got an off-world exercise this afternoon. Kol Fine said it’s the penultimate test. After that, he’ll declare us operational.” Mike looked over to the shuttle, then back to Joe. “What’s going on?”

  Joe looked at the shorter Brit. “We’re planning a mission back to Earth.”

  Mike smiled. “About time.”

  “There are a few complications.”

  “When aren’t there?” Mike smiled.

  Before Joe could respond, the Admiral and Kol Fine walked back over.

  “Major, as I’ve told Master Grade Fine, Colonel Hunt and I are in the early stages of planning a mission to recapture Terra, but there are several hurdles to overcome. Namely, that fleet command has put a halt on all offensive operations, and peace talks are going to start in the not too distant future. We need to secure Terra before that happens because once the negotiations start,
it will be harder to wrestle Terra from Coalition control until it may be too late.”

  “What does that mean?” Mike asked with a concerned look on his face.

  “Major,” Joe pursed his lips, then shook his head. “The Coalition has destroyed several cities around the world, none in the UK, and it looks like they’re currently exploiting mineral resources. There is a threat that until we free the planet, they’ll keep on taking the resources out of the planet, and we don’t know where that will leave the people there.”

  “So, time is of the essence.” Mike said, looking to Kol Fine.

  “It is a good thing that your training is drawing to a close.” Fine said. “Admiral, what assets do you have online?”

  Taark shook his head. “I don’t want to promise anything just yet. We are in contact with friendly forces on the planet’s surface, we just need more time to flush out a plan.”

  Fine nodded, then looked at the ground. “We need to pull this off before formal peace talks begin.” He looked up. “The Grand Marshall will be furious if we ignore his hold order, we’d never be forgiven if we compromise a chance at a lasting peace.”

  “Agreed.” Joe said.

  “Then! We shall leave you to your training.” The Admiral said. “Kol Fine, once the Terran Strike Group is mission capable, you are to report to me on Traxis.”

  “And what do I tell Dynamic Operations command?” He asked, a wry grin on his face.

  “Make something up.” Taark replied.

  “Actually Admiral, I might know some people there that can help us.” Joe said.

  “Who?” Val-Lar asked.

  “Just some people.” Joe replied.

  The admiral looked at Joe, then to Mike. “Major. Ace this test this afternoon, then your final. Your home-world is counting on you.”

  The trio boarded the shuttle and were heading back into orbit with speed. Joe had two priorities: get in contact with Doctor Beck on Earth, and find out what Rhea was up to. The recapture of Earth was an all hands on deck operation. Tracking down the conspirators was a luxury they didn’t have time for because once the peace talks started they’d be unable to effect change. If they were going to save Earth, it needed to be soon.

  Half of the duo-pods had already dropped, and Mike was standing patiently next to his partner Trevor Grace, a former US Green Beret and one of the very few members of the TSG that was chilled almost all the time. This drop was going to be their penultimate, and they were going to be using an armour that was heavier and offered more protection than they had ever utilised in the past.

  When Colonel Hunt and Admiral Taark had departed Jax, Kol Fine had informed them that they needed a final test before the final examination to test their mettle and their trust in their tech.

  The training exercise was simple in nature. Land on the surface in a two-person drop-pod. Utilise a portable shield generator and use it for protection to move to a strong-hold. There were a few catches. The generator weighted a lot, and it would only produce a protective wall on a 180-degree arch, and on the planet they were heading to, that was fine because the atmospheric conditions only came from one direction, but those conditions were fierce. Winds blowing at incredible speeds, flying shards of molten glass travelling faster than the speed of sound. Anything that gets caught outside the shield would die. Quickly.

  Kol Fine hadn’t given much of a background on the planet other than it used to be used during the time of the Empire for training members of the Rescue Technician branch, and there were legends that dead students bodies were still being hurtled around the planet at supersonic speeds. Now a permanent part of the landscape.

  “Next pair up.” Z7 said in his always mechanical tone.

  Mike and Trevor took another step forward. The training vessel only had so many of the heavily armoured drop pods available, so there was a delay in waiting for pods to auto-pilot back into orbit before the next pairs could be sent down, and with only six pods in use, it took some time to get the entire TSG onto the surface. By the time Mike up for his drop, almost seventy-five percent of the team were already on the surface.

  “Next pair up.” Z7 ordered.

  Mike and Trevor stepped forward in their heavy armour, then, like every proceeding team were ushered towards the compartment that contained the drop-pods. Once inside they were met by two service droids who gave their suits a final check, and once cleared, they entered the drop-pod and waited.

  When the door slammed shut, and the automated message was broadcast as a final set of instructions for Mike and Trevor. They had heard it from Kol Fine, then from Z7, this was making sure there was no confusion.

  “You are dropping onto Alpha India 75R for training. Once on the surface, you will collect the shield generator that is dropping with you, and that will provide you with protect on 180 degrees. Your objective is to move to the bunker shelter and await extraction. The bunker’s location and distance will be revealed when you are on the surface. Points are awarded for speed.” The message ended.

  Mike cycled through his comms channels and checked that Trevor was his primary link. “How’s it going over there?” He asked.

  “Good to go, Tatts.” Came the reply in a deep southern accent. “Roll Tide.” He added.

  “Roll Tide.” Mike repeated, but he wasn’t sure what it meant. He was still working on getting down the American colloquialisms. “How do you want to play the generator?”

  There was a pause before Trevor Grace replied. “If the generator on the surface is identical to the one on the training ship, it’s fucking heavy.”

  Mike knew exactly what his teammate was talking about. They were both on the shorter side in the Terran Strike Group, and the generator weighted 400 kilos, and even with the power suits, they’d be struggling to carry the generator at a swift pace. “I suppose we’ll just have to do our best.” Mike replied it his most British of accents.

  “Drop.” The announcement came over Mike’s helmets communications system, but he felt the jerk of the pod being shot out of the drop tube almost a fraction of a second earlier.

  Once they were clear of the ship he had a rough idea of how long it would take them to hit the surface, but there were variables at play he wasn’t aware of. If the ship were in a high orbit, the drop would be longer than if it were in a low orbit. If the ship were in the planet's atmosphere, the drop would be very short in nature. This drop proved to be none of those.

  “What are you reading our altitude?” Trevor asked over the comms channel.

  Mike checked the information. “Passing through twenty thousand.” He paused while he checked the pods other read-outs, and paused when he looked at the information being displayed about the thrusters that were supposed to fire to arrest their descent once they dropped under one-thousand feet. “I’m ready a faulty light on engine two.”

  Trevor waited until he replied. “I’m seeing that also. Looks like engine two isn’t getting any power.”

  Mike shook his head. He knew these pods were ancient, and he had no intention of getting smeared into the surface of Alpha India. “We need a plan. No way that one engine keeps us from slamming into the surface at a lethal rate.” Mike switched channels to the emergency broadcast net. “This is pair nineteen. We are experiencing possible engine failure. Is this training or real-world?”

  Z7 came back quickly. “Real world. We are trying to correct from orbit. Suggest you work the problem at your end.” The channel cut out.

  “Did you catch that?” Mike asked.

  “I did.” Trevor replied. “Options?”

  Mike knew right away that there was only one option, and it gave them a good chance of survival. “Activate the shield generator now, use it as a cushion.”

  “Can we remote power-up?” Trevor asked.

  “I’m already there.”

  Mike scrolled through his heads-up-display until he reached a setting that allowed him to search for near-by electronic systems, the shield generator being the only one within range. O
nce he had gained access, he quickly brought up the main selection menu and tried to make sense of the very dated piece of machinery.

  Running through what he was looking at, Mike tried to make sense of the warm-up and power-up sequence for the shield generator. It was short, and from what he could interpret, the system was ready for an almost immediate power-up.

  “I’m going to start up the unit and direct the shield downwards and try to use the system as a buffer.”

  “Sixty-seconds.” Trevor reported.

  Mike went through the system, and double checked the angle of the shield beam and made sure that it was oriented towards the ground. There were no guarantees that it would work, but the system would be completely useless if it were projecting towards the sky.

  “System rotated down.” Mike said over the comms.

  “Thirty-seconds.” Trevor came back. “Wide shear is over fifteen hundred miles an hour down there.”

  That wasn’t good. Wind that fast was fatal, and if something went wrong with the drop-pod, there was an excellent chance that it would hit the ground then bounce along the surface of the planet like a ball, all the while Mike and Trevor were rattled around the inside until the G-force’s inside the pod killed them.

  “Once we hit the surface, I’m going to orient the shield into the wind, and hope that once we stop, we’ll have protection from the environment.” Mike said.

  “Tattersall.” It was Z7 back on the net. “A ship has been dispatched to recover your pod. Just survive the landing.” The channel cut out.

  The pod continued its rapid descent towards the planet's surface with winds kicking up close to two-thousand miles an hour with visibility down to five metres at most. Cutting through the mess of a sky, the pod was still on course for its original landing zone, but without the second engine to slow it down, it was coming in at a lethal rate, but with the shield generator oriented downwards, they might just have a chance.

  “Five seconds!” Trevor yelled.

  Mike counted the seconds in his head. When the altimeter finally came to a halt, it was reading less than a metre off the planet’s surface. “We’ve stopped!” He yelled, but even with the internal dampeners on, he could feel that the pod was about to get carried away by the wind, and as fast as he could, he shifted the projection of the shield into the wind, which saved them from getting swept away by the epic winds that were sweeping the surface, but as soon as the focus of the shield changed, the pod fell the remaining distance down to the ground, then flopped over on its side. After rocking a few times, the pod came to a halt, with Mike and Trevor face down, suspended inside their suits.