The Glorious Becoming (Epic)

by Lee Stephen

  The ship was launching on its own.

  “Look!” Tom said, pointing at the shore. Lilan and the rest of them stopped and turned just in time to see the transport lift off the ground. But its cannons didn’t fire. On the contrary, it was like a routine takeoff—and not one of the hostiles on the beach seemed concerned.

  “Uhhh,” was all Lilan could muster as he watched the ship rise, pivot, then slowly drift away.

  Tiffany screamed at the ship at the top of her lungs. “Why are you doing this?” She searched desperately for any button that retained functionality. There was no working comm, no working manual override, almost no working anything. On the verge of hyperventilating, she dashed from her seat back to the troop bay, tearing through overhead bins and lockers while the ship picked up speed through the sky.

  Finally, in the second-to-last locker, she found what she was looking for: an old, seemingly abandoned handheld comm. Wiping her hair from her forehead, she looked at the frequency. It was a setting that looked nothing like Richmond. Swallowing hard and with no other options, she hesitated, whispered a prayer, then pressed in the button.

  * * *

  NOVOSIBIRSK, RUSSIA

  “DUDE, THAT’S BULL,” Travis said from his upper bunk, looking down from his comics. “Stellar Man could beat Commander Kill any day of the week.”

  William scoffed. “How old is Stellar Man? He was invented what, two hundred years ago? Commander Kill is so much better.”

  “Just because he’s newer?”

  “No, just because he’s better.”

  Travis slammed his book down. “How is he better? Stellar Man can fly, he can shoot lightning, he has skin as strong as iron!”

  “He doesn’t have any weaknesses, dude!”

  “That’s what I’m saying!”

  William threw up his hands. “But that makes him so lame!”

  Travis’s comm suddenly queued. Raising an eyebrow, he snagged it from his nightstand.

  “Commander Kill rocks,” said Williams.

  “Shut up.” Engaging the talk button, Travis held it to his lips. “Y’ello.”

  ACROSS THE PLANET, Tiffany’s eyes widened wildly. “Hello! Who is this?”

  “DUDE, SHE SOUNDS hot!” exclaimed William.

  Travis hurled a pillow at him. “This is me,” he answered. “Who be you?”

  “This is Tiffany!”

  William nodded confidently. “Oh yeah. Tiffanys are always hot.”

  “Well hello there, Tiffany,” mused Travis. “This is Stellar Man.” He placed his hand over receiver and whispered to William. “It’s Max. He’s getting some chick to screw with us.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because it’s from one of our comms. Who else would be screwing with us? Egor?”

  TIFFANY BLINKED and stared at the comm. “Stellar Man?” she murmured to herself. Pausing confoundedly, she spoke again. “I need your help, Stellar Man!”

  WILLIAM RUSHED TO the side of Travis’s bunk. “Dude, tell her you’re fighting Commander Kill! Do it!”

  Travis sniggered and held up his hand. Clearing his throat, he deepened his voice. “I’m afraid I can’t help you, good citizen. You see, I’m staving off an attack from Commander Kill.”

  “Dude, staving! That word is awesome!”

  They high-fived.

  TIFFANY’S MOUTH HUNG open. She didn’t have a reply.

  TRAVIS SPOKE AGAIN. “What kind of assistance do you require?”

  William cut in loudly. “Is it sexual?”

  Travis cracked up and jerked the comm away. “Dude!”

  The demolitionist lost it.

  EYES NARROWING, Tiffany answered, “No, it’s not sexual!”

  “Then how may I be of stellar service to you?”

  Carrying the comm to the cockpit, Tiffany sat down and looked out the window. The ship was flying full speed through the storm. “We just got attacked by EDEN ships! We don’t know where they came from, but I’m in one of them now and I don’t know where I’m going.” She pored over the console. “For some reason the autopilot’s overriding manual control. I can’t get it to switch back!”

  TRAVIS AND WILLIAM stared at the comm in silence. For several seconds, neither said a word. William finally broke the quiet. “This prank sucks.”

  “THERE’S NO COMM in the ship, it’s like this thing’s held together with duct tape!” She eyed the radar. “I’m in formation with four Vindicators and another Vulture, all on the same trajectory. They must all be on autopilot!”

  A LOOK OF concern struck Travis’s face. “Wait a minute,” he spoke into the comm, “you said the ship didn’t have a working comm. How are you on one now?”

  Her breathing heightened. “I found it in a locker! It was the only one in the ship.”

  “What ship?”

  “I don’t know! This ship! This...piece of crap!”

  Holding out a hand of seriousness, Travis leapt off his bunk and walked to the middle of the room. “I need to know what ship. Read me the serial number.”

  Several seconds passed before the voice answered. “It’s VD723-442-MX09. There was something on the tail, like a dog.”

  Travis’s mouth fell open. His face shaded pale. “Oh my God,” he said off-comm. “She’s in the Pariah.”

  “I HAVE NO IDEA where I’m going! This thing just took off on its own. I wasn’t even trying to do anything!”

  ALL LEVITY WAS gone as Travis’s tone increased. “Tell me exactly what happened. You said you were attacked?”

  “Yes, by ships from EDEN! My unit was sent on a mission near Lake Drummond.”

  “Lake Drummond?” William mouthed in bewilderment.

  Tiffany went on. “We don’t know why they attacked us, but the rest of my team is on the ground! The hostiles abandoned their ship and I climbed on board. Then it just took off!”

  “Where is Lake Drummond?” Travis asked.

  “In the Great Dismal Swamp!”

  Travis looked at William, who shrugged. “Where’s the Great Dismal Swamp?” Travis asked. “Is that in Russia?”

  “What?” the voice shouted. “No it’s not in Russia! It’s by the Virginian coast. Who the hell am I talking to?”

  “This is Travis Navarro, in the Fourteenth of Novosibirsk.”

  She sounded stunned. “Novosibirsk? Why the hell am I talking to Novosibirsk?”

  “Why the hell are you flying in my ship?”

  There was a distinct pause from the other end of the line. When the woman’s voice returned, it was low in disbelief. “Oh. My. God. I think I’m flying to you.”

  The hair stood on Travis’s arms. For several seconds, he said nothing—he simply stared in a blank stupor. Finally, he queued the comm again. “Hold please.” Breaking the connection, he turned to a new frequency.

  “Dude, who are you calling?” asked William.

  Travis locked eyes with William as he prepared to speak on the line. His dreadful expression said it all. “Hello,NovCom?” The pilot swallowed. “I need to talk to General Thoor.”

  * * *

  “THAT HO LEFT us!” Tom said as the transport disappeared out of view. “Y’all see that?”

  Javon shook his head. “Man, what’s goin’ on?”

  “She didn’t leave us,” Lilan said definitively. “Did you see those troops on the ground? They weren’t even fazed when that transport took off. That was an autopilot kicking in with her inside.”

  Catalina was panicked. “Where is she going? What if they take her prisoner?”

  “Forget that trash,” said Tom. “We gotta get outta here.”

  “Forget that trash?” asked Catalina furiously.

  “Hey!” said Javon, stepping in front of Tom and looking at him. “You best back it off, King.”

  Ignoring the rising tempers, Lilan pointed toward the lake. “We have to keep moving. Those hostiles think our dead bodies are in that wreckage. When they find out they aren’t, they’re going to come looking for us. We’ve got un
til then to get out of this swamp or to get somewhere where we can hide and sort this out. So let’s get moving.”

  Tom and Javon glared at one another for several moments, before the latter turned away. Crouching down, he scooped Catalina in his arms.

  The group’s trek resumed.

  * * *

  IGNATIUS VAN THOOR was in the midst of an afternoon nap when his comm sounded. Grunting groggily, he lifted his head and stared at the comm on his stand. Sitting upright and allowing himself a moment to become alert, he queued the comm up. “Thoor,” he said gravelly.

  “General, this isNovCom. We have received a request from Travis Navarro of the Fourteenth. He says he needs to speak with you immediately. He says it is urgent.”

  Running a hand through his hair and breathing heavily, the general paused to collect his senses. “Put him through.”

  “Yes, general.” The voice hesitated. “I would also like to advise you... the global network was just raised to orange alert.”

  “Orange alert? For what?”

  “It has not been defined.”

  Thoor’s quarters fell into silence. He nodded absently. “Give me Navarro.”

  “Yes, general.”

  Several seconds passed, during which General Thoor closed his eyes and simply breathed. Finally, Travis’s trembling voice crackled through. “General Thoor? This is Travis Navarro with the Fourteenth. Remington’s unit.”

  “I know what the Fourteenth is. Speak.”

  “General, I just received a transmission from a woman who claims to be on a transport on its way here. She’s saying EDEN attacked her unit with that same transport. I’m not sure how she got on board, but she said the autopilot kicked in automatically.”

  A bewildered look struck Thoor’s face. “EDEN attacked this woman’s unit? And she is with EDEN?”

  “Yes, sir. The transport she commed me from...it’s ours. It’s the Pariah.”

  Thoor’s eyes opened widely. New alertness came. “I want to clarify. An EDEN unit was attacked by an EDEN vessel that belongs to us and is now en route to us?”

  “Yes, sir. It sounded like multiple ships took part in the attack.”

  “Where are they now?”

  “North America, headed this way.”

  Thoor rose from his bed. “Thank you.” He closed the channel, changing his frequency toNovCom. “This is Thoor. Can you verify that multiple vessels with Novosibirsk signatures are en route to The Machine from North America?” Several seconds passed, but verification indeed came. “Dispatch Gagarin Wing on an immediate intercept course. Tell them their job is to escort these vessels back to Novosibirsk. Instruct them to engage any other approaching aircraft. Send a message to EDEN Command clarifying orange alert. I am on my way to you now.”

  * * *

  “JUDGE ARCHER!” one of the operators yelled. “I have two squadrons of Vindicators launching from Novosibirsk on an intercept course with the transports!”

  Archer’s head swung the man’s direction. “What?”

  “Sir,” another operator said, “I’m getting a comm from Novosibirsk Command requesting clarification on orange alert.”

  Archer pointed back to him firmly. “Deny them! Cut them off!” He looked at the first operator. “How could they possibly know about these transports?”

  The operator shook his head. “I have no idea, sir. No one’s sent a word to them.”

  “What’s their time to intercept?”

  “Twenty minutes.”

  “And our Superwolves?”

  “Thirteen.”

  Archer’s eyes narrowed. “I want those transports blown out of the sky before Thoor’s ships are within a thousand kilometers!”

  * * *

  TRAVIS WAS RUNNING full speed towardNovCom. Shortly after getting off line with General Thoor,NovCom had demanded his presence. With his beloved ship in the equation, he wasn’t about to argue. On his own accord, he had commed Max to tell him the news. Upon Max’s own insistence, the technician was en route toNovCom himself, whether The Machine wanted it or not. This was something big.

  A sentry was waiting for Travis when he arrived, and they hurriedly escorted him through the security door and to the top of the control tower. It was the pilot’s first time ever being there, asNovCom was all but off-limits to standard personnel. It was exclusively Nightman territory.

  The control room bustled furiously, with multiple operators on multiple consoles. On one of the displays, the Pariah and its airborne companions were being tracked. But another display caught his attention, too. On it was a squadron of Superwolves just over the Sahara Desert.

  “Who’s that?” Travis asked, pointing.

  TheNovCom shift supervisor turned Travis’s way. “Are you Navarro?”

  “Yes.”

  “Come with me.” The man rushed acrossNovCom, directing Travis to a seat by a radio panel. “Queue up the comm from the Pariah on this panel. I want the woman on loudspeaker.”

  Without argument, Travis set up the comm’s signature.

  One of the security guards approached the supervisor. “I have a Lieutenant Axen on ground level requesting access toNovCom. Did you request him?”

  Turning around quickly, Travis answered before the supervisor could. “I requested him. He knows the Pariah as well as I do. He needs to be here.”

  The supervisor seemed to deliberate before nodding his head. “Let him up.”

  Moments later, Tiffany’s channel was queued. “Tiffany, can you hear me?” asked Travis.

  Her voice emerged. “Yes, I hear you!” Her heart rate echoed in her voice.

  Travis opened his mouth to speak on, but the supervisor cut him off. “American pilot, this is Novosibirsk Command. A squadron of Superwolves is currently on an intercept course for your aircraft. We believe its intention is to destroy you.”

  Travis’s jaw dropped.

  “We are dispatching a wing of our own to escort you to Novosibirsk, but the Superwolves will reach you first. Your orders are to alter your course for Madrid, Spain. You are to use the city as cover from assault until we arrive to escort you. The Superwolves will not fire while you are near heavy populations.”

  “I can’t!” Tiffany screamed. “I already told you, I can’t get back manual control!”

  The supervisor nodded calmly. “We know.” Then he looked at Travis. “We have someone troubleshooting your problem now.”

  Blinking, Travis turned. “Wait, you’re talking about me?”

  “The Pariah has always been a unique ship. Who better to fix it than its pilot? The Superwolves will reach her in eleven minutes.” He motioned to his sidearm. “You have six.”

  The door acrossNovCom opened; Max rushed inside. Scanning for Travis, he stopped when he found him. “Trav! What in the—”

  “No time to explain!” Travis said. “We need to figure out how to disable an autopilot override lock!”

  “Wait, what?”

  Travis turned to the radio. “Tiffany, you still there?”

  “Yes!”

  “Tell us everything you’ve tried to do.”

  ABOARD THE PARIAH, the blonde was frantic. “Okay, I tried disengaging, and it didn’t work. I pulled the breaker, and that didn’t work either!”

  “THE BREAKER DIDN’T even work?” asked Max. “How is that even possible? The breaker should go right to the source.”

  NovCom’s elevator door opened again as General Thoor marched inside. Visor cap veiling his eyes, the Terror’s glare swept the room, settling on Travis and Max. Looking away, he approached the supervisor.

  Max nor Travis had time to care. “Okay,” Travis said, “what would cause a circuit breaker not to work?”

  “This is the Pariah we’re talking about, now.”

  “I know, but has that ever been a problem before?”

  “I don’t even know if it can be,” Max said. “It’s like unplugging something from an electrical outlet. It should work without fail.”

  The supervisor loo
ked their way. “Five minutes.”

  Glancing at the supervisor, Max turned back to Travis. “Five minutes until what?”

  “Until he has two less bullets,” he answered.

  “Veck! Okay. The way the breaker’s designed, failure shouldn’t be possible. Is the control mode working?”

  Travis got on the comm. “Tiffany, is the control mode working?”

  She answered quickly. “Completely dead.”

  Travis and Max looked at each other. They spoke at exactly the same time. “A second autopilot!”

  “TIFFANY,” TRAVIS said over the comm, “we think they might have installed a secondary autopilot somewhere on the ship.”

  She blinked. “Like, you’re kidding, right?”

  “It makes sense to a degree. If this was a crucial mission, they would have wanted something more dedicated than what was already on board. What we’ve got to do is find out where they put it.”

  Kneeling below the seat, Tiffany began opening panels. “Why wouldn’t they replace the system that’s already in place?”

  “If I had to guess, because there was too much damage to the main systems. Rather than overhaul everything, it was probably easier to attach the processor to a secondary system.”

  Tiffany nodded. “Processor, right.” Abandoning the pilot’s seat, she scrambled back to the troop bay and knelt next to a floor grate. “Processor’s where it should be, right?”

  “If it’s not, we’ve got a whole new set of problems.”

  Removing the grate, Tiffany shoved it aside and laid down on the floor, sticking her head into the cavity.

  THE SUPERVISOR LOOKED at Travis and tapped on his watch. The pilot nodded aggravatingly. “Talk to me, Tiff. Are you in the mainframe?”

  “Oh my God,” she said breathlessly. “I have never seen a bigger mess in my life.”

  Max smirked. “She’s in the mainframe.”

  “Just look for the processor,” Travis said to her. “Forget everything else.”

  Her voice was despondent. “Words cannot convey how utterly hopeless I feel now that I’ve seen this thing’s innards.”