Salvage-5: Another Mission (First Contact)
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Slavena took aim at the main Gus clone from the opposite flank of Tucker’s shield, but was struck in the chest by one of the clone’s beam weapon. Slavena dropped to the ground, Sam looked over at the large hole left in Slavena’s chest. Where her heart should have been was only a smoldering hole.
Hargrove took advantage of the chaos and tackled the Gus clone to the ground, but was quickly overcome with several more cyborg-clones entering the room. One of them grew a chip injector and stabbed the end into the back of Hargrove’s neck. He instantly fell limp as the chip injected into his skull.
“You all must get out!” the Keeper shouted. He closed his eyes and touched Tucker on the shoulder. Tucker, Samantha, Buster, and the Sergeant suddenly vanished. With them went Tucker’s protective shield. Several beam weapons struck the Keeper clone, killing him instantly.
* * *
Tucker woke up, his head reeling from the last few minutes of expelled AMP charge. He looked over at Samantha, who was strapped in her captain’s chair.
Sergeant Samuels groaned, shook his head and cleared his throat, “Tuck? Where are we?”
Buster opened his eyes and adjusted his crooked glasses, “Hey, what just happened?”
Samantha began to stir, and then jumped against her straps, “What the hell?!”
Tucker sat forward against his seat straps and looked out the front windscreen, “We seem to be aboard the Salvage-5.”
Sam checked her instruments and nodded, “Yes, we’re on board the ship, but we’re no longer docked with the CSMO!”
“Can you tell where we are?” Tucker asked.
Buster answered before the Captain had a chance, “We’re not even near asteroid 52 Europa. That much is clear by all my readings.”
“Cass! Where’s Cassie?” Tucker unbuckled his harness and floated toward the crew cabin in a panic to check.
“I don’t think she’s with us, Commander,” Samuels answered.
“No...no...NO! This can’t be happening!”
Samuels reached over to Tucker’s shoulder, “I’m sorry, Tucker. None of us knew...how could we?”
“They’re virtually identical in every way, Commander,” Buster added.
“What about Slavena? What happened to Hargrove? Did anyone see what happened to them?”
“I saw what they did to Slavena,” Sam said, lowering her head, “They burned a hole clear through her.”
“I saw Hargrove get chipped just before we fell unconscious,” Samuels said.
“The only thing I can seem to get,” Tucker said, his AMP charge quickly fading, “is that the Keeper clone teleported us here.”
“Which means,” Buster again added, “He must have been killed when your shield dropped.”
Tucker lowered his head, “Guess we got our asses kicked.”
“I’ll say,” Samuels agreed.
“Buster,” Tucker said, turning his neck to the whiz-kid, “Use that last AMP charge, and I’ll send us back to Earth. We need to regroup.”
* * *
Chapter 9
Whidbey Island Naval Base & Space Port
Oak Harbor, WA
Salvage Mission De-Briefing
Earth Date: 10/23/2065 08:00
Mission Objectives:
Mission Failed
DEPLOY CSMO AT ASTEROID 253 MATHILDE
JUMP ASSUALT TEAM TO 52 EUROPA
INFILTRATE ALIEN NOOSPHERE
RESCUE HUMANS
COLLECT ALIEN CORE
DESTROY NOOSPHERE COMPLEX
General McKenzie paced behind his desk. Tucker, Captain Rothschild, and Sergeant Samuels fidgeted quietly. It was Buster’s turn to give his version of what happened on the mission.
“…and the Commander really didn’t have any choice in the matter, General. We were in the alien chamber and then we were on the ship. It happened just like that, Sir.”
“Just like that…”
“Yes, Sir. Just like that,” Buster snapped his fingers.
“And you expect me to believe this cockamamie story?”
“Well, yes…Sir…”
“You’re all very good.”
“Thank you, Sir…”
“…and I don’t mean that in a good way, Lieutenant.”
“Oh…sorry, Sir…but it was Major Phillips. She tipped them off.”
“Uh huh, sure she did.”
“But, Sir, you’ve got to believe me.”
“The kid’s right,” Samuels chimed in, “Cass was a clone. None of us expected that.”
“Sergeant, that’s enough. You’ve had your turn at explaining.”
“Sir?” Buster nervously raised his hand.
“What is it, Lieutenant,” the General asked, rolling his eyes.
“We’ve been interviewed separately and now together. Our story is solid, Sir. I know you won’t find any discrepancies…”
“That’s enough, Lieutenant. You all have your stories very well prepared. That’s the only thing I know for sure.”
“But, Sir…”
“I said, that’s all Lieutenant!” General McKenzie glared at the boy, and then turned his stare at Tucker, “The only thing I can be sure of is that you botched the entire mission.”
“General…” Tucker began.
“I don’t want to hear that Major Phillips and Captain Hargrove are stuck back out on that asteroid. I don’t even want to know that the Russian officer, who you begged our admiration to grant asylum, is now dead…as well as five marines! I won’t bother telling you how much grief you just caused me on that point alone…but what I will remind you of is that you left two, not just one, but two multi-billion dollar Salvage vessels behind! Not to mention that one of them was damaged beyond flight status before you even arrived at your staging area.”
“Sir,” Tucker again attempted to explain, “Cass was chipped. We couldn’t know that. She made connection with the aliens present on the Noosphere. They ambushed us, Sir.”
“Well, the only thing I can add to your far-fetched story is that it would make a great science fiction movie.”
“General…”
“Tucker! That’s enough. I’ve heard this story over and over. How is it that you miraculously flew back to Earth in hours, instead of weeks?”
“The Cyborg-Clone keeper transported us back.”
“See,” the General scoffed, “That’s just a story that I can’t put in my report!”
“…and you can’t explain it either, can you, Sir?”
“No, I can’t explain it.”
“…and that’s what’s really got you bugged, isn’t it…Sir?”
“Tucker, I have to bring this stuff to my superiors. If I buy into your story I’ll look as nutty as you do. Even if I did buy it, which I don’t, I don’t think I can sell it if I tried.”
“Well, I wasn’t going to say anything.”
“About what?”
“That you’re nuts, Sir.”
“Alright, that’s enough, Colonel!”
“What? You said it first…Sir.”
“Okay, here’s what’s going down.”
“I’m all ears, General.”
“I’m warning you, Colonel.”
“Hey, I have to lighten it up.”
“Yeah…uh huh,” the General cleared his throat and continued. “Captain Rothschild, you’ll pilot the return trip in five months. We’ll have the ship’s systems upgraded and new MECH’s installed. Sergeant Samuels, you’ll be responsible for overseeing the upgrades and reinstallation into the Salvage-5’s hold.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“What about me, General?”
General McKenzie stared at Tucker, “I’m retiring you. Effective immediately.”
“But General!”
“That’s what you wanted, Tucker? Isn’t it? You wanted retirement, now you have what you’ve been wanting all along. From the moment we reactivated you, you whined and complained the whole time about not wanting this duty. Well, I’m just granting your wish.”
“General…”
“Don’t but General me, Tucker. Just be lucky you’re not being charged with anything…God knows I could…go fishing. Do some hiking, go looking for your friend Calvin Jones or something, but you’re not going to command another ship.”
“What about me, Sir?” Buster asked, sliding his glasses up his nose.
“Do you want to go on another mission?”
“Heck no.”
“Fine. You’ll stay on the base where we can keep an eye on you. You can drive a transport truck for all I care. Just keep out of trouble, you got that, kid?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“You sure you got that?” the General asked.
“You won’t have to worry about me, Sir. Besides, like you said, who’d believe me anyway?”
General McKenzie pointed his finger at the young Lieutenant, “Smart kid. Maybe you should take some notes, Colonel.”
Tucker rolled his eyes, “Colonel, Mac? I thought I was retired…”
“I thought I told you not to call me that!”
“Sorry, but I’m retired.”
“Tucker, I ought to unretired your ass so I can throw it in the stockade!”
“What about Cass and Hargrove? You have to let me go back. I can’t leave her out there, Sir!”
“We’re not going for another rescue mission. Captain Rothschild and her new commander, along with the Sergeant here, are going back for a Nuke strike. That’s all.”
“You can’t kill them…”
“They’re already dead, Tucker!”
Tucker leaned over to Sam, “See, he’s not listening to us,” then he faced the General again, “They’re alive…they’re being harvested for their DNA! We’ve got to rescue them!”
“This is not up for debate, Tucker.”
“Come on, General…you’ve got to let us go back for one more attempt!”
“Like I said, Tucker, it’s not up for debate. This is coming from the man himself. We have no choice in the matter! Now, hand me your wings and go home.”
“Sir…”
“The wings, Colonel.”
Tucker reluctantly unpinned his colonel insignia and tossed them on the General’s desk, “This isn’t over, Sir.”
“It is for me,” the General smiled, “I’ve been waiting a long time to take those away again.”
“You’ll see, General, it ain’t over.”
General McKenzie turned to Captain Rothschild, “Sam, you’re dismissed. You’re all dismissed. I want you to escort Tucker off the base. Take him to the Crow’s Nest and buy him a nice retirement drink.”
* * *
Whidbey Island
Oak Harbor, WA
Crow’s Nest Bar
Earth Date: 10/24/2065 01:55
“Last call!” the burley bartender yelled.
Tucker leaned against the bar, holding his glass in the air, “Here, here! Keep ‘em comin’!”
Sam grabbed his hand and slowly lowered it to the bar, “I think you’ve had enough celebration for one night.”
“Not a chance,” Tucker slurred. “I’m just a-startin’...”
“Tuck...you don’t have to do this, you know.”
“What? I’m perfectly fine,” he again stammered. He set the glass on the bar and reached in his shirt pocket for a stogie. “We’re the hell’s my cigar?”
“You ran out hours ago, Tuck,” Sam answered.
“Whattya mean, I ran out? I should still have one on me. I know it’s somewhere...where the hell is Samuels? We’re just starting to party!”
“Tuck, he went home three hours ago.”
“No...that’s impossible,” Tucker said, spittle flinging from his drunk lips. He looked around the room, “Humph! Party pooper, anyway! We don’t need him, do we?”
“No, Tucker. We don’t need him.”
Tucker looked into Samantha’s eyes, “Good...hey, has anyone ever told you, you have beautiful eyes?”
“Gee, thanks Tucker, but we need to get you home.”
“Oh, good...oh, wait...I wanted another drink first? Wanna go home with me?”
“I’m taking you home...”
“...you wanna sleep with me?”
“No, I don’t want to sleep with you.”
“But you just said you were taking me home.”
“Come on, lover boy. Let’s get you sobered up.”
“No...I don’t want to be sobered up.”
“Tucker, you can’t stay drunk forever.”
“Suuure I can.”
“Not on my watch.”
“Oooo, you watching me? Really?”
“Nice try, Tuck,” Sam motioned to the bartender he’d had enough.
“No, no, no...my good man...last call means you serve me another.”
“The lady says you’ve had enough, and I tend to agree with her.”
“Hey now...don’t I get a vote?”
“No!” Sam and the bartender answered in unison.
“Well...” Tucker said, swaying as he attempted to stand upright, “Then I shall play a little tune on the jukebox.”
Sam held him back to the bar, “You can barely walk, Tuck. Never mind the tunes.”
The bartender dug in his deep pockets for a coin, “Don’t worry, Colonel. I’ll get you a tune. What’d ya like to hear?”
“You got ‘American Pie?’”
“That might be in the archives. Let me check,” the bartender answered before stepping to the machine.
“See?” Tucker smiled at Sam, “You juss’ have to ask...”
“Right...”
The bartender studied the music list, inserted the coin, and punched in the code. A few seconds later the bar was filled with the sound of slow sounding music as the song began.
Tucker reached across the bar and snatched the bottle the bartender had left behind, and drew it up to his lips.
Sam attempted to take the bottle from him, but Tucker pulled it back and took a long swig. Then setting the bottle on the bar, nearly knocking it over, he began singing the lyrics at the top of his lungs, in his best drunken voice along with the music, “So bye-bye, Miss American Pie. Drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry. And them good old boys were drinkin' whiskey and Rye, Singin' "This'll be the day that I die. This'll be the day that I die..."
“Hey!” someone from the other end of the bar shouted, “You mind?”
Tucker stopped crooning, and looked over at the large man, “No, but thanks for asking,” and then proceeded to sing more choruses of the famous song.
“You’re murdering Don McLean’s song...knock it off, already!”
“Excuse me? I’m just drinking whiskey and Rye over up in here,” then Tucker gave out a loud whoop.
The man got up from his stool and walked over to Tucker, Samantha stood between the two of them.
“You need to stop before I make you stop!” the man demanded, trying to come through Samantha.
“Now, boys, just take it easy,” Sam said, attempting to settle them both down.
The man shoved Sam, “Outta my way, Missy!”
Tucker grabbed him by the collar, and gave the oversized man a shove, “No! You see, you can’t be pushing pretty women around.”
“It’s okay, Tucker! Let’s just go...” Sam tried to say.
The man clenched his fist and took a swing at Tucker, who instinctively ducked, and then Tucker came up with a jab to the man’s stomach. However, Tucker’s fist had no effect on the man, who then proceeded to pick Tucker up. The man tossed him across the room, smashing onto one of the table tops, and then crashed to the floor.
Sam belted the man with a swift left hook, catching the man off guard and causing him to stumble backwards into another round table.
At this point, it was all over for the Crow’s Nest as the entire room erupted with a knock-down, drag-out brawl.
Tucker crawled on his hands and knees toward the exit where he was met by Sam. She helped him to his feet and out the front door, “Come on, Colo
nel. Let’s get out of here.”
“Oooo, that can only mean one thing, Captain...and stop calling me Colonel...remember? The General stripped me of my birdie wings.”
“I’m afraid to ask, but what would that one thing be, Tuck?”
“That means I’m gonna get lucky, cause I’m takin’ ya home,” Tucker answered, lifting a finger in the wind.
“Yeah, you’re getting lucky alright.”
“I am?”
“Yes...”
“Wow! I would’ve never thought, Sammie.”
“Relax, Tuck. You’re lucky you’re getting out of there in one piece.”
Tucker spun around and headed back inside, “Oh, wait...my request never finished playin’.”
“Don’t worry, Tucker. I’ll buy you your own copy of ‘American Pie.’”
“You will?”
“Sure...now come on before they move the fight out here.”
“Okay, Sammie, you’re the boss,” Tucker smiled and spun around again toward her car.
* * *
Chapter 10
Whidbey Island
Oak Harbor, WA
Tucker’s House
Earth Date: 10/24/2065 11:00
Tucker lay on his living room sofa, while Samantha scrambled eggs and made toast. His eyes fluttered slowly open. Holding one eye open, Tucker looked around the room and took in a deep sniff of the food she was cooking.
He lifted the wet wash cloth from his forehead and sat upright with a groan, “Ah geez, what happened?” Tucker asked, rubbing his temples.
Sam stepped around the corner from the kitchen, “Good morning Tucker. I made eggs and toast, and I even squeezed fresh orange juice.”
“Did we...you know?”
“Oh please, Tucker!”
“What? Like it’s some kind of epidemic, or something?”
“No, we did NOT sleep together.”
“How can I be sure?” Tucker asked, raising one eyebrow.
“I wouldn’t have made you fresh squeezed juice if I had.”
“Really...I don’t get to sleep with you, and I get freshly squeezed orange juice? What’d I get if I had? Whoop!”