Extinction (Extraterrestrial Empire Book 1)

by Tony Teora

  Jimbo continued in his earlier dream state and stood looking at the deer he’d just let go in the forest. The deer slowly metamorphed into a tall, grey alien. Jimbo looked at the EBE-C3 and was about to take a shot when the alien spoke.

  Jimbo, I am not your enemy. There is a dark force here that must be destroyed. It is a race that exterminates others. It is an evil that has neither understanding of human compassion nor our species’ logical enlightenment. I’ve left the physical plane and will return to my multidimensional world, but I require someone in your physical dimension to destroy this menace. This, I assure you, is in our mutual interest. Your physical bio-technological form is similar to ours. We are not enemies. We are more like what humanity could become, even if both our societies refuse to admit this. Please destroy this facility and leave this area while you can. There’s help. Ask, look, and find.

  Jimbo opened his eyes and looked at the nearby dead alien. He stood up and pinched himself to see if he was really alive. His body was surrounded by a halo. I’m either fuckin’ dead, a ghost, or nuts. Jimbo looked around the reactor room and rushed out of the exit.

  ***

  The DARPA shuttle, Beta-Ray, started its engines in the Aurora space bay. Ace, Ivan, and Hiro sat as passengers. Pilot Melissa Mahan and her co-pilot meticulously checked systems, getting ready for launch. Ace stared at a holo-screen, doing a final check, and then looked over to the co-pilot, Yarborough. Yarborough set the course, cloaked the shuttle for added safety, and activated a plasma-coil to charge up weapons. “I feel better having these warmed up,” he said to Mahan with a devious smile.

  Mahan smirked back. “Me too. All systems check.”

  The stocky black man nodded in return. “Confirmed—all good.”

  “Great.” Mahan tapped her comm. “Captain, all systems check, we’re ready to proceed to Kabbalah. Request permission to leave space bay.”

  On the Aurora’s bridge, Karr looked over at his astro-logistician, who nodded. “Permission granted. Head out on scheduled course and orbit. Wait for Manpower at 250 kilos to confirm final LZ.” Karr switched viewscreens. “Manpower, are your men on schedule?”

  From another part of the pressurized space bay, Manpower moved troops and a seven-foot-tall mechanical robot onto his much larger shuttle. He stopped yelling at men to answer the call. “Yes, Captain, we’re heading out on time. Eight minutes from Beta-Ray departure—I want the Beta-Ray to get to its location first. We won’t have the same cloaking with our larger shuttle and signature and I need them to get in and monitor those damn laser cannons. So we’ll delay our departure until we’re sure they’re in orbit. Then we’ll come in with firepower.”

  “Good, Manpower. But be careful when you get in low. Just in case there are lasers we don’t know about. Okay, Mahan, you heard Manpower. Get going and Godspeed!” Karr nodded and stared a little longer at Mahan than he wanted to.

  “Yes, sir,” said Mahan, catching the caring eye. She lifted the Beta-Ray off the deck and headed toward the opening space doors.

  Ivan smiled and scratched his balls. “We gonna find Kiya and Big Jimbo.”

  Ace put on his helmet and looked over at Ivan with a curious look. “Big Jimbo? Listen buddy, he’s a crispy fried critter. We can try to bring back his remains … I’m sure it’d mean a lot to his family. Get your helmet on. We need to start our purge for the drop.”

  Ivan grabbed his gear. “Big Jimbo not crispy … Yogi had dream last night, Kiya and Big Jimbo are alive on GEN-6— we need to find them.” Ivan started to chew on an empty bullet round, ignoring everything around him.

  “I had some weird dreams, too … but Jimbo? I don’t see how.” Ace looked over at Ivan, praying that he was right, wishing that both Kiya and Jimbo were alive, knowing that it was virtually impossible. He hoped Ivan hadn’t gone nuts like many people did in space. Then again, most people thought anyone working with the Big Guns on explosives work had to be nuts to take the job in the first place.

  Ace stared down at Ivan and then out the window as the fading Aurora back dropped away in the cold, dark space.

  ***

  Fifteen minutes later on the Aurora bridge….

  “Captain, I think we got something … looks like a cruiser, S-class,” said the astrogator looking at a tachyon scan.

  “Put it on the viewscreen,” ordered Karr.

  Karr looked at the long, grey cruiser and smiled. Ace was right. An intergalactic, light weapons class BOT cruiser was behind the black, volcanic moon. A small, yet nimble cruiser, but one designed for Electromagnetic Pulse (EMP), and sometimes carrying a magno-shell rail gun, and even nukes.

  “Raise shields and patch me into the ship,” ordered Captain Karr. The BOT cruiser had little chance against the Aurora, but it was better to play it safe.

  “Aye-aye, sir. Patching a secure line now. Connecting … got a voice line, video loading soon,” said Brassfield.

  “Thanks, Lieutenant.”

  Karr looked at his embedded wrist comm. He saw the correct code response. The line was secure. “This is Captain Jeffrey Ozias Karr. I’d like to speak with the captain of the BOT cruiser.”

  “Captain Karr, it’s good to hear your voice.”

  Karr thought he knew the voice. “Is this Demian? Demian Vilante?”

  A two-way viewscreen picture came into view and a late-forties, stocky, dark-skinned man came into focus. He was wearing a black baseball like cap with the ship’s name, the GateStorm, monogramed in red and a captain’s insignia of a gold star on top.

  “Yes it is, Captain Karr. Good to hear your voice, but not good to see your ship on full alert. We’re on an Earth Command mission and have no intention to fire upon your vessel. Hell, I think just one of your new armored Space Marine MLVs could take us out.”

  It was probably true. The new Marine Landing Vehicles now carried SMART, a short-range missile that could take out most S-class cruisers. Karr looked over at the WEPCON station. “Go to yellow alert.” He turned back to Captain Vilante. “You can never be too careful in space, especially when you travel to the edge of galaxy … where you think you’re the only war ship in a billion light years and you encounter an EBE craft and then a BOT vessel. So, Captain, can you tell me what you’re doing so far away from home and hiding behind a moon?”

  “Well, I’m not gonna bullshit you, Karr, for two reasons. And you know the first.”

  “Yes, I do,” said Karr, smiling. Both men were members of the elusive Scientia Sodalitas, a private fraternity where members kept a bond of trust. Most members were captains in the Space Navy or had high positions in government. Rumors of the organization made more of the group that it really was, but he and Demian were both part of the Scientia Sodalitas in Boston. They knew and trusted one another.

  “I figured you did, but I’ll cut to the chase. Black Ops sent us in a month ago to bring in supplies. We got an underground base here sponsored by Earth Command and Headquarters.”

  Karr did not like where this was going. “Headquarters” was the slang term for the Black Operations home office outside of Arlington, Maryland. It was a breeding ground for ex-military and top weapons research. The two were intertwined like stitching in a finely threaded cotton shirt. Earth Command hadn’t informed him of the Dream Land base nor the BOT cruiser, which meant there were two power groups trying to wrestle with what to do with the infected base. The BOT ship shouldn’t have been waiting a month. Karr shook his head. “So, Captain, if you were here a month ago to drop off supplies, what are you still doing here?” Karr thought he knew the answer.

  “Well, as we were leaving, we got a distress call from the above-ground GEN-6 base. Even though the underground base and above-ground GEN-6 are separate, we had some joint projects—or so I was told. In any case, we immediately turned, but we got orders to stick it out behind this moon and to wait here until further orders from a Chip Tucker.”

  Karr knew things were a mess, so he explained what had happened to Tucker and the GEN-6 base, after which bo
th called into Earth Command for a joint command decision. It required lots of precious anti-matter energy to make the call, but both knew it was necessary.

  Earth Command patched in BOT Headquarters. The EC General agreed that Vilante should head back with all of the Aurora database and log files while the Aurora finished its mission to destroy the bases. With Vilante heading back with critical data on the EBEs and the infected scientists, Earth Command would have insurance in case something went wrong. The tachyon-entangled, long-range galactic call ended with Karr feeling that the Earth’s power structure had dramatically changed over the years. Wonder who really runs the world, Earth Command or the world’s spook agencies like BOT?

  Captain Karr smiled before parting. “Brother Vilante, you’re one of the best war strategists I know at Earth Command and I know BOT pays well, but frankly speaking, I really think you should consider some honest work. BOT is so …”

  Vilante laughed deep from his chest. “Oh come on, Karr, get off your high horse. We all gave up honest work a long time ago when the corporations took over politics. We both know that BOT is just another part of our government, albeit somewhat hidden. We can keep all the pretentious crap for the speeches. You and I don’t need to bullshit each other. We’re part of the military complex. You’re just civilian versus me in corporate.”

  “I recall during my Academy studies that Eisenhower clearly mentioned the risk of the military-industrial complex in his farewell speech as a warning to the politicians and people at large. I don’t think the politicians or the people listened—I think that’s how we got this octopus-like system. I think the military should stay under the control of the politicians and government, not corporations.”

  Vilante smiled. “You know, Karr, President Eisenhower actually wrote about the military-industrial threat to the republic as a military-industrial political complex. His speechwriter withdrew the words ‘political’ from the draft because it was too ‘political’. Kinda ironic, don’t you think? In any case, I have no illusions. I’m part of the rotten system and so are you. The only good thing in my life is the brotherhood.”

  Karr knew Vilante was talking about the Scientia Sodalitas. He, too, felt a strong bond with those fellow brothers, as it was one of the few places where he could be true to himself and others. Vilante was correct—the world was filled with too many layers of bullshit, onion skins of political correctness and abstraction hiding the truth. It created doublespeak lies for consumption by the masses in the New World Order. In fact, the political military-industrial complex hid space travel and colonization from the masses. God only knows if those folks would still go to work and labor if they knew mankind had stumbled upon a race bent on humankind’s extinction.

  Karr frowned. “I hate to admit it, but you’re right, Vilante.”

  “Yeah, well, being right and doing the right thing won’t get you much in today’s world. The admiral still gives me shit about disobeying orders, even after I retired and went corporate.”

  Karr knew of the story. It was talked about a lot in private military circles. Years back, when Vilante was the XO of the Nova, he had disobeyed his kidnapped captain’s orders to allow the Chinese to kill the kidnapped captain rather than Vilante submitting to the Chinese demands. Vilante agreed to the demands, but secretly brought in a special detail that eventually retrieved Captain McCain, now Admiral McCain—but not before the Chinese hacked into the Nova’s computer systems. Vilante later started a self-destruct that could have killed everyone, pressuring the Chinese into relinquishing ship control. But that one example of disobeying orders almost got Vilante discharged. Most considered him a hero for saving the captain, but that one strike was enough of a blemish for the military to push for an early retirement.

  “I think I understand,” said Karr, feeling some pain in the face of Vilante.

  “I’m surely not Number One with the Space Navy and the admiral, even though I did save his ass on the Nova years back. But that’s how they reward you in this business, Jeff. I don’t dare think you got the good end of the stick, especially after hearing on the channels that three of your best men got killed. I’m really sorry about that tragedy, Jeff, and the whole crew of the GateStorm sends its condolences to your men.”

  “Thanks, Demian. We appreciate that. Look, we’re going to head into the devil’s den and it looks like we need this intel to get back to Earth. We should be at Kabbalah at 1800 tomorrow. I’ll try to patch in our status via the long-range comsats, but I think we’ll only get one message in to you before you’re out of range. This data will be especially important if we encounter serious issues. We can’t risk having all this data gone. Is that understood, my good friend?”

  Vilante chuckled. “Captain Karr, I’m not going to pull any U-turns, plus this ship has one-fifth the weapons capability as the one you have, even before your modifications. If you have trouble, we can help, but we can’t take much of a hit. Our ship’s fast and so is our short-range scout, but that’s about it. We’re all counting on you and that crazy Ace. Not sure how they made that mad man, but you know he was on my team when we won those war games. I sometimes thought he was an alien. And what a poker player! Jeez, the whole wardroom lost their pants to that guy. I want you guys to succeed because I want him back here to try and get some of my money back. There’re a few others that feel the same way.”

  Karr laughed. “If we win this thing and get back to Earth, he’s all yours. The man’s a piece of work. I’m just glad he’s on our side.”

  “Me too. Well, Jeff, I really hope this isn’t our last goodbye. Godspeed and good hunting, my friend.”

  “You too, Demian,” said Karr, cutting the line.

  A wise human will win our respect, but only a benevolent human will win our affection.

  – Grey EBE-3 Telepathic Communication

  21

  _________

  Aurora — All Guns Fire!

  Ace looked at the time on his wrist-embedded comm-sensor. He and Ivan had already spent twenty minutes pre-breathing 100 percent oxygen in their high-altitude jump suits. Pre-breathing O2 was required in order to get nitrogen out of the bloodstream to prevent the bends from the high-altitude drop. The bends would fill the blood with gas, and that’d make for a deadly trip down. An internal blood sensor said both he and Ivan were good to go. “We’re prepped and ready,” said Ace to the pilot.

  “Good, cause we’re in position at 60K,” replied pilot Mahan.

  The Man Jets he and Ivan wore looked silly at first sight, but they were practical flying machines. The plasteel materials were lightweight and strong. The dual jet packs turned a man into a true flying jet, if only for thirty minutes. He and Ivan would strap the Man Jets to the outside of their pressurized body suits. Ivan’s pressurized suit was designed to look like one of the alien robots. This would help with him sneaking into the robot base. Standing next to him was an actual robot with Man Jets attached. Hiro would be controlling that one.

  Hiro checked a few control systems via the wireless comm. “Okay, I’ve got Tin Man ready to fly with you guys. I’m ready when you are.”

  Ivan smiled in his enclosed suit. With the Man Jet, he looked like a military version of Buzz Lightyear. “Let’s hurry, my back itches.”

  Ace smiled. “You can scratch it during your landing. We’re ready to drop.”

  “Get into the drop pods, exit on a ten count,” said Mahan.

  Ace, Ivan, and the tin man robot stepped into separate cylindrical tubes. The tubes closed and, with a rush of air, each dropped a second after the other. The tin man went first, then Ivan, then Ace.

  Mahan patched into the Aurora. “We have a clean drop. Moving into standard orbit to monitor laser cannons.”

  ***

  “Yippee!” yelled Ivan, whizzing through the thin upper atmosphere and twisting his body like an aerial gymnast. He quickly accelerated to the tin man and they joined up with Ace, who calmly led the crew.

  Wind rushed furiously across Ace’s helmet.
He glanced over at Ivan and his robotic partner. “Hey, I’m going to land near the east gate and see if I can find out what happened to Kiya. You and the tin man are to proceed a click away from the underground base. Get in and wire up the reactor cooling lines. Manpower’s men will need our recon to get in, get the scientists out, and blow up the joint.”

  Ivan nodded and then broke formation. He did three aerobatic twists and air summersaults.

  “These suits have limited fuel. Are you on the preloaded mapping program, Ivan?” asked Ace.

  Ivan smiled and flew back into formation. “Sorry, this jet pack is better than Russian roulette. I love this thing! Yes, sorry Ace. I now on program. Got LZ mapped.”

  Hiro, who’d been watching the aerobics via a tin man-mounted camera, cursed. “The man should be on meds, not on a program.”

  “I heard you, Hiro,” said Ivan. “New good ears come with new strong skull plate.” Ivan tapped his head shield a little harder than he’d expected. With the extra strength of his robotic hand, it cracked the top part of the viewing mask. “Uh oh” said Ivan, looking at a crack running down his mask.

  Ace looked over. “Shit, Ivan, get behind the tin man to reduce the air drag. Your space helmet is cracking.”

  “Too late, we’re hitting upper atmosphere,” said Ivan. “I need to take off helmet or it will crack and scratch up beautiful Ivan face.”

  “He’ll die of asphyxiation! He can’t take it off!” yelled Hiro, looking at the O2 content and the altitude. The men were at 20,000 feet.

  Ivan unlocked and pulled off the helmet. It cracked and shattered in his hands. Ivan smiled into the tin man camera and then threw it away.

  Hiro looked at Ivan’s face, all wobbly like Jell-O from the high-speed descent. He shook his head. “Nuts, he’s gonna die, Ace—he needs oxygen.”