Launch Sequence (Genesis Book 2)

by Travis Hill

  “No,” he said, kneeling down in front of me. “I totally get it. Look, Private, Seong and I… we’re not married, but we’re, uh, really close friends.”

  The now-embarrassed Marine looked up at Captain Jun who did her best to not laugh at him, or maybe both of us. It took me a moment to figure out who Seong was, but then I remembered her profile page when I had been tied into Icarus’ systems.

  “I’m Sergeant Blaine, by the way,” he said after getting no help from the pilot. “Anyway, you won’t understand any of this for a while, but in the military, we have… Okay, no, wait. We, uh, are sorta like boyfriend and girlfriend but only at certain times.” He looked back at Jun again, his face desperate for help.

  “I’m not explaining the birds and bees to him,” she said, folding her arms across her chest. “And I’m damn sure not explaining to Admiral Jason Shaw let alone Captain Lara Shaw as to why a certain jarhead and superstar pilot decided now was a good time for such a lesson.”

  “Right,” Sergeant Blaine said with a grimace. “You’ll understand when you get older. Trust me. It’s just how it is in the military. But we don’t tread on each other when it comes to spending time with close friends. So remember that when it’s my time with her.”

  The man tried to act gruff and tough, as if he were ready to fight me over Captain Jun. He saluted me instead of throttling me, then turned on his heel and began to march away. He took three steps when the captain called him back.

  “Private Shaw wants to be a fighter pilot,” she said.

  Sergeant Blaine shook his head in disgust. The look he gave me made me feel like I was something to be scraped off his boot. He came back and knelt down in front of me again.

  “Listen, Private Shaw. That’s a bunch of horse shit. The only people who become pilots are people who are either mentally deficient, or couldn’t hack it as a grunt.” He held up his hand before I could protest that he had basically just insulted my mother. “Your mom is a Marine, so don’t even give me grief. She may have flown a bomber and even a crippled capital back to safety, but she’s a true Marine inside. A hero. She saved a lot of lives and did so under the kind of pressure anyone else would have folded under.”

  The solemn look he gave me was followed by an even more formal salute before he turned on his heel and marched off again, shooting Captain Jun an insulting middle finger on his way by. She sat down next to me and gave me a hug with one arm and picked up her sandwich with the other. Neither of us said anything. Our bodies were too busy demanding real food instead of the thin protein soup our stomachs were given during hibernation. I didn’t want to say anything because I knew it would come out all wrong and stupid and she’d remove her arm from my shoulders.

  Ten minutes later, I received a message on my comm from a Lt. Kurtz. It was an invite to come down to F-Deck whenever I wanted, and a promise that the Marines would convince me operating a CR-31 was a million times better than sitting in a chair while a computer flew my ship around the stars. I showed it to Captain Jun. She spit out a chunk of her sandwich from laughing at it, but told me if anyone could convince me to be a Terran Marine, it was Lt. Andrea Kurtz.

  SEVEN

  I barely spent five minutes with my parents after having lunch with Captain Jun. She told them about Lt. Kurtz’s offer and assured them I had been a perfect gentleman. Dad worried out loud about how the gruff Marine on F-Deck might scar me for life, but Mom assured him the lieutenant was capable of being around children without murdering them—or at the least, burning their ears off with strings of curses that even the saltiest sailor would cringe at hearing. Captain Jun gave me a hug, saluted the three of us, then jogged down the narrow hallway. Mom made me promise to not annoy the Marines on F-Deck, and Dad made me promise to not steal a CR-31 and go on a rampage. I agreed to both and ran the opposite way Captain Jun had.

  I stopped a couple of meters from the lift when I noticed a girl staring at me as if I’d gone crazy. I had never seen her before, but I instantly forgot about Captain Jun and focused on the girl waiting for the lift. She was older than me, but not by much, at least according to my suddenly inflated hyper-awareness when it came to females. I tried to act calm and smile at her but wasn’t capable of doing both things at once and ended up stumbling over my own feet. The look she gave me made me feel an inch tall, but when I heard her giggle I felt bigger than the universe.

  “Hi,” I said, my voice sounding like it had gone up twenty octaves. “I’m Dennis.”

  “Alyna,” she said to the floor.

  It was the most beautiful name I’d ever heard, but her cheeks were red enough that I didn’t want to embarrass her any more. Or myself, as I was sure anything I tried to say would come out like a malfunctioning radio at full volume. I smiled at her but couldn’t stop shifting back and forth on my feet.

  “Do you have to use the bathroom or something?” she asked.

  I wanted to die right there on the spot. I didn’t have to go to the bathroom, but the only thing more mortifying would have been if my mother had asked it in a loud voice. I did my best to stop dancing around and stand still.

  “No. I’m just nervous, I guess.”

  “Why? Haven’t you ever been on a ship before?”

  “Yeah, I’ve been on a ship before. Just not one like this one.” I closed my mouth before I said something Top Secret.

  “Where do you think we’re going?” she asked.

  The lift arrived. We waited for soldiers and sailors to exit then stepped inside. Alyna stood so close to me that our arms touched, setting off a new struggle as I tried to keep from shaking to pieces.

  “I don’t know,” I said, happy that I didn’t have to actually lie. “Hopefully somewhere safe.”

  The look of pain and sadness that crossed her features made me remember my own deep well of unwanted feelings that grown ups somehow had to deal with every day.

  “Where are you going right now?” I asked, changing the subject.

  “Are you a spy or something?”

  “What? No. I’m just asking.”

  “I’m going down to F-Deck to see the 109th.”

  I had no idea who she was talking about, but was happy we were headed to the same deck.

  “Me too,” I said, immediately regretting how I sounded like a puppy who had just found a new friend.

  “Maybe they’ll let us sit inside a suit,” she said, her eyes dreamy.

  “You’re going to see the Marines too?”

  “Of course. That’s who the 109th are.” She gave me a look that suggested I might have left most of my brain back on Daedalus. “You know, the 109th Shipboard Operations Detail…? The special detachment of CR-31 operators who travel on all military ships just in case there’s a pirate or Kai crew who try to board?”

  I laughed even though I felt dumb for not knowing what the 109th was. She didn’t like me laughing at her and her beautiful eyes and pretty smile turned cold.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You can’t broadside a moving ship and board it while under acceleration,” I said, remembering a conversation with my father about a pirate story I’d made up.

  “You can disable a ship then broadside it and board,” she said with a curl of her lip.

  I decided to shut up and not argue even though I wanted to tell her that in the entire history of human space travel, such a thing had never happened. The Kai had no reason to board a human ship, preferring to make it explode into a billion fragments. Pirates weren’t much different, but pirates also knew better than to mess with Coalition warships or any ship under the protection of the Coalition Navy. Since I was going to spend the next few hours on F-Deck with Alyna, I wanted her to not hate me. Everyone hated a know-it-all. Especially girls.

  —|—

  “Welcome, recruits,” Lieutenant Kurtz growled while we stood at attention at the entrance to F-Deck.

  “Permission to enter, Ma’am!” Alyna said gruffly, as if she really were a Marine recruit showing up to basic training.


  The gruff Marine stalked around us, checking to see if we had what it took to enter her domain. I couldn’t help imagining a half-burned cigar hanging from the woman’s mouth—a mouth that seemed to be locked into a perpetual snarl. Her face was suddenly inches from mine. I did my best to not sweat or act as nervous as I felt.

  “Permission granted,” she said, then stood at parade rest in front of us.

  I craned my neck to look up at her. Lieutenant Andrea Kurtz was two meters tall and though lean, was almost all muscle other than the places where women had softer curves. I couldn’t help myself as I stared at the scar that ran from her left ear, down her neck, and into her t-shirt. My eyes followed it but I looked away once they focused on her chest.

  “Kai heavy infantry,” she said, tracing the scar with a finger.

  She’d caught me looking at something I shouldn’t have, and once again I hated the uncontrollable feelings and urges that seemed to possess me at the worst moments. Kurtz grinned and saluted us, then shook both of our hands. She put her arm around Alyna’s shoulder and led us into F-Deck.

  I did my best to keep my eyes from popping out. It wasn’t like I hadn’t seen a CR-31 up close before, but those times had been brief and the Marine operator inside performing a serious duty. F-Deck had half a dozen CR-31’s hooked up to their docking stations, all in various stages of disassembly. The half dozen operators moved with efficiency as they cleaned, calibrated, and tested their fighting suits.

  Kurtz led us to the closest CR-31. I stared at it, letting my eyes wander from its matte black composite armor boots, across the chest and arms that could hold an impressive array of heavy weapons and personal armaments, to the evil-looking helmet that had to cause fear in any enemy that came across one in battle. The lieutenant nodded her head, letting me know it was okay to touch it. She winked at Alyna and helped the girl up and into the battle suit. My hand touching the armor of a real CR-31 normally would have been the highlight of my life, but the insane jealousy I felt at Alyna getting to actually sit inside made it feel as if I’d touched a dirty trashcan.

  “What the hell is this little shit-eater doing in my ride?” a loud, obnoxious voice boomed, making me jump in fright.

  “Vicaro, are you a stupid hillbilly Marine?” Kurtz asked with a growl, whipping around to confront the soldier who had just returned from hunting down a wrench.

  “Yes, Ma’am,” he said without any hint that it was an insult.

  “Goddamn right you are,” Kurtz rumbled. “You’re too stupid to know that little shit-eater is the spawn of Lt. Commander Prajapati.”

  A chorus of groans from the other Marines followed Kurtz’s words. Vicaro shook his head and looked down at me.

  “I bet the shit-eater’s boyfriend is probably some admiral’s kid then, right?”

  “Private Dennis Shaw!” I said, snapping smartly to attention.

  The pride in my voice masked the cracking, warbling sound that had invaded it lately. I hoped it did, anyway. Vicaro laughed and shook his head again. He turned and made an insulting gesture at the other operators who laughed even harder.

  “Goddamn XO’s daughter and a hero’s son,” Vicaro said after turning back to us. “No offense to your old man, kid. But goddamn… Lara Shaw…”

  “That’s Captain Shaw to you,” Kurtz reminded the Marine.

  “Roger that,” Vicaro said and edged by his lieutenant. “Hey, twerp, you know how to power this bastard up?”

  I stepped back quickly, as if Alyna would jam her finger into a button that would instantly put the CR-31 into combat mode. The other Marines laughed again, and I earned a ruffle of my hair from Lt. Kurtz for being quick on my feet. She then nodded with her head for me to follow her and let Vicaro school Alyna on how to operate the most advanced combat gear humanity had ever created.

  “Here, you can dink around with mine,” Kurtz said, stopping in front of another CR-31. She peered down at me, and once again I imagined her rotating a cigar from one side of her mouth to the other. “Unless you still wanna be a pilot…”

  The way she said pilot made it sound as exciting and noble as eating mold, but I didn’t detect any true hate for pilots. She explained as she helped me up into the combat suit how starship pilots, especially dropship and insertion pilots, had saved her behind more than any of her fellow Marines. I knew the rivalry between the ground beef, as the Navy liked to refer to Marines, and the flying fish, as the Marines lovingly referred to Naval pilots.

  My father told me stories once in a while—minus all of the grisly details, no doubt—about how Marines and Naval pilots were similar to two organisms in a symbiotic relationship. It had been just after one of the rare weekends when he’d been home and we watched a series of nature documentaries. When Mom went to the kitchen to make snacks, Dad told me how Marines on the ground were useless without support ships to drop supplies and keep the skies or space around an objective clear of enemies so the Marines could do their jobs.

  He explained how without Marines on the ground to knock out defense installations and control territory, support and combat ships couldn’t land. Which meant they couldn’t drop off troops, ammunition, food, medical supplies, and couldn’t evacuate the wounded. When I asked why they seemed to hate each other, he only laughed and said that Marines and Sailors had hated each other since the beginning of time, but had learned to live with each other since they couldn’t survive alone.

  “Be careful,” Kurtz said when I slid my hand into the CR-31’s glove. “It takes a lot of training to apply the proper amount of grip. It’s easy to try and shake hands while using enough force to rip the armor off a tank.”

  I grinned and imagined me and my trusty CR-31 bounding through Kai army bases, tearing security doors from their frames while blasting at the bugs with a dual-barreled heavy plasma repeater. Lt. Kurtz held out a banana that she produced from a pocket and gestured for me to take it. I flexed my fingers in the glove a few times, feeling the weird sensation of feedback in the pads of my fingers. My hand was too small to manipulate the mechanical hand expertly, but after a few seconds of getting the hang of it, I reached out and grabbed the banana as gently as I could.

  “Good thing that wasn’t your head!” one of the Marines called out as the rest of them laughed at the squished remains of a pulverized banana dripping from the CR-31’s hand.

  “Talk shit and I’ll have him shave your balls,” she replied to even more laughter.

  “You suck, Shaw,” Vicaro yelled from beside his CR-31.

  I stared at the expert way Alyna handled her fighting suit. She was too short to get both of her arms fully into the CR-31’s arms, but even with one arm and small hands, she was able to pick up a cup of yogurt, hand it to Vicaro, then dip a spoon into the cup and lift it to his mouth. The look I gave them must have been full of jealousy and hate as even Kurtz laughed out loud.

  We were allowed to spend the next hour messing with the CR-31’s, helping Marines service their weapons, and even sat in on a hand of poker before Kurtz decided it might not be such a good thing if we went back to our parents babbling about how we’d learned to gamble. The Marines treated us as if we were part of their squad, including exposing us to more curse words in one hour than I had heard my entire life. The lieutenant made us promise we wouldn’t talk like Marines until we were actual Marines—or at least Navy pukes. Neither Alyna nor I used vulgar language while we were with the 109th, but that only seemed to make the real Marines respect us more.

  “You get to cursin’ so much that you find you can’t say two words without injecting a ‘fuck’ or a ‘shit’ or a ‘goddamn’ in there,” Sergeant Blaine said after Kurtz lectured us on proper language around non-Marines. “And civvies and squids, they think it’s because we’ve taken too many bullets to the brain and can’t talk like civilized human beings anymore.”

  My comm chimed with a message from my dad. Alyna and I thanked the Marines, especially Specialist Vicaro and Lieutenant Kurtz, for treating us like adult
s. That seemed to impress them enough that every one of them demanded we come down anytime Icarus wasn’t zipped up for high-g maneuvers.

  We walked to the lift together in silence. My mind was desperately trying to hold on to the memories of my time in a CR-31, the way the men and women of the 109th all talked like they hated each other but acted like they would obliterate entire solar systems to protect, and the way they pretended we were part of their unit. The only thing that would have been better was if they’d had a shooting range and let us pop off a few rounds.

  “Where are you going now?” Alyna asked when we stepped inside the lift.

  “B-Deck,” I said, wanting to look at her but doing everything I could to avoid looking at her.

  “C-Deck, but then, I’m just an XO’s daughter, not the son of a hero and a Rear Admiral.”

  I did look at her then, thinking she was being mean like most girls acted at our age. She had a smile on her lips, and something about the way she stood with her back against the lift wall made my body feel as if it had involuntarily contorted into painful, uncomfortable shapes. I didn’t know what to say. I wouldn’t apologize for being the child of two of the most recognized names in the Daedalus system, but I knew anything I said would make me sound like every snooty brat of an officer or politician I’d met throughout my life.

  The lift stopped at D-Deck and Captain Jun entered with another officer. She smiled and winked at me, her eyes shifting to the pretty girl next to me. I didn’t realize I’d been staring at her until Alyna elbowed me and whispered in my ear.

  “Oh my god, you love her!”

  I froze. The lift stopped and Alyna exited along with Captain Jun. All I could imagine for the next twenty minutes was the two of them laughing at me as they told each other how awkward and gross I was. I wanted to die all over again. I didn’t want to feel hot then cold then hot then cold on a loop around girls anymore. I hoped that after we made it to the seedship, I would somehow wake up from a thousand year hibernation and be an adult.