by G J Ogden
There was silence for a few more seconds, until Taylor spoke up. “You’re a part of this crew too, you know. Me, Casey, Blake... we’d all still be having our strings pulled by those gray-skinned psychos if it wasn’t for you.”
Sonner smiled at him. “We haven’t finished reassembling the crew, remember? There’s still one more we have to find.” Then she looked at him with a cold seriousness. “And we will find her, Taylor. I promise you, we will.”
Satomi Rose… thought Taylor, though in truth thoughts of her were rarely far from his mind. He told himself that the Satomi he’d spoken to in the Fabric was still out there. But it was hard to shake the memory of Provost Adra literally tearing the head off the Satomi simulant from Blake’s ship. He still held out hope, but he also had to consider the possibility that Provost Adra had destroyed the last Satomi Rose unit in the galaxy.
“You’re right, I’m sure we’ll find her,” he said, half-smiling. Glass half-full... “She’s the only real family I have, along with Casey and Blake.” Then he returned Sonner’s serious stare. “And you too, Sarah.”
Sonner looked away, but not because she was embarrassed. She seemed suddenly sad.
“I’m sorry,” said Taylor, worried that he’d offended her somehow, “I didn’t mean to…”
“It’s not that,” Sonner interrupted. Then she swallowed hard and looked into his eyes again. “On the reserve base, when we were running through the names of those who had survived hibernation, and you pointed out Collins… well… at first I thought you were pointing out someone else.”
“Who?” Taylor was mesmerized by Sonner’s sudden confession.
“My ex-husband.” Taylor recoiled so hard he almost fell of his chair. “He’s one of the flight crew. A captain, actually.”
Taylor grabbed the back of his neck, astonished by the news. “Well, have you spoken to him?”
“No.”
“Why the hell not?” Taylor asked, almost too aggressively. He could see Sonner’s eyes harden and her armor start to return, so he backed down. “I’m sorry, I know it’s not my business, but hell, if there was ever a reason for forgiveness and second chances... Even if it’s just a second chance at a friendship. There aren’t many of us left, Sarah.”
“It’s complicated,” replied Sonner, taking another sip of coffee.
“It always is.”
“And we didn’t part on the best of terms,” Sonner added, half hiding behind her mug.
Taylor sighed and then smiled. “Well, they say time is a great healer, and you’ve both had more than three hundred years and I don’t know how many thousands of light years apart. So who knows. Glass half-full, right?”
Sonner laughed and then raised her mug, “Well, I’ll drink to your optimism, if nothing else,” she said, before draining the last of the coffee. Then she got up and placed the mug delicately onto the counter, before stopping by Taylor’s side and resting a hand gently on his shoulder. “We’ll talk again soon, Captain. Rest well, you’ve earned it.”
“Aye aye, Commander Sarah Sonner,” Taylor replied, offering a casual salute.
Taylor remained at the table for a few minutes after Sonner had gone, thinking about everything that had happened since they had last set out from the Contingency base. From the rescue of the flight crews, to facing Provost Adra in the flesh, saving and successfully waking up Blake, and the new problem of Colonel Collins, it had been one hell of a roller coaster. But he was also acutely aware of how close they’d come to falling off the rails. Provost Adra had them dead to rights and for whatever reason she had let them go. But if there was one thing he’d never been more sure of in his short, real life, it was that he’d meet Provost Adra again.
Suddenly, his head felt wooly and weary and he remembered why he had come back onto the Contingency One in the first place, which was to go to bed and regenerate. He got up, pushed the two chairs – his and Sonner’s – neatly back under the table and turned to leave. He shot one last glance back at Sonner’s array of drinks-making equipment on the counter and smiled. Keep Calm And Drink Coffee… he said, reminding himself of the motto on Sonner’s mug. If only it were that simple.
THIRTY
Taylor sat on the edge of his bed and picked up the data pad from the table by its side. He flipped it over in his hands for a few seconds, trying to distill the millions of thoughts that were racing through his mind. The ship’s logs and mission reports had already detailed the facts of the events, but it was all so sterile and anemic. Instead, he wanted to record his feelings, while they were still vivid in his mind, which was as prone to forgetting things as any human brain was. Then, maybe another three hundred years down the line, if anyone survived the war to come, his journal might help others to understand the extraordinary times he lived in. The fight for the survival of the human race, as told through the silver eyes of a simulant. He stopped flipping the pad over and then logged into the account, ‘Taylor Ray - Awake’.
Personal Journal - Entry #3
It’s terrifying to think that this journal entry was almost never written. This time we only scraped through by the skin of our teeth, and even then it was perhaps more through luck than judgement. But we made it back and I guess that’s all that matters in the end. No, scratch that… We didn’t just come back – we came back stronger. That’s what matters.
We already had the warships, and thanks to Sonner’s engineering geniuses, they’re as good as new. The irony is they’re also more than a little long in the tooth, compared to what’s out there waiting for us. But this brand new, out-of-date fleet of ninety-nine Nimrods is all we have, and so it will have to be enough.
And now, thanks to another lucky roll of the dice, we have flight crews. Are we ready? Not even close. Many of them are as showroom-fresh as the Nimrods. But maybe that was the best we could ever hope for, and some hope is always better than none.
But while our fortunes have improved in some ways, in others our situation has become far more precarious. Our enemy knows we’re out here and she’ll be looking for us. She knows our faces and she knows our ship. Whether out here in the vast expanse or inside the sub-layer of space that is the Fabric, sooner or later she’ll find us. Maybe it’s a good thing. I know I’m tired of skulking around and hiding and running. It’s time we took the fight to them.
Of course, it’s not that easy, because it’s not only the threat of the Hedalt we have to contend with. As our family has grown lager, so has it become more dysfunctional. There’s a black sheep in every flock and ours is Colonel Chester Collins. I had a feeling he was bad news, and I’ve never been more sorry to be right. But we’ll work it out. We’ll have to, because the stakes are too high to allow one individual – no matter whether it’s a man, woman or simulant – to threaten the success of the entire Contingency. Because if we lose, we die. And I don’t want to die, because I’m just getting used to being alive.
It helps that I’m no longer alone. Casey and Blake are the same as me, and in a strange way that makes them family. Blake and I have always had a love/hate relationship – he loved to push my buttons and I hated it – but having him around again just feels right. It’s like a part of me returned that I didn’t even know was missing. I’m also a little jealous of how easily he adjusted to his new simulant reality, but I guess I should have expected nothing less from Blake. He always saw the universe through a heavily polarized lens. And he’s lucky too, because he still has the one person in the universe he cares about the most. Was his love for Casey a part of the original Blake Meade’s past or invented by the Hedalt? Who knows, but if I had to choose, I’d choose to believe it was real. Something so true and so honest couldn’t be faked. But I guess it doesn’t matter either way. This Casey and Blake are alive and their feelings are as real and as unshakable as the rock surrounding this base.
Thinking about family always brings me back to Satomi Rose. I worry that when I close my eyes, all I’ll see is Adra tearing her apart and tossing her aside like a worthless p
iece of trash. In my simulant body, my emotions are contained and constrained, but in my dreams, the pain is real and agonizing. I try to be optimistic, but I’ve never been one to live on false hopes. I know I may never see her again, and I know I’ll never truly be complete if I don’t.
None of it matters if we don’t win this war; not Satomi or Blake or Casey or Sonner, or the hundreds of people on this base – all that remains of humanity in the universe. But I know we can win. I know, because I saw my enemy bleed. I saw her on her knees. So what if they have superior numbers? So what if they have superior ships? That’s just math, and it takes more than that to win a war. When it comes down to it, I know they can be beaten. We may not be as formidable a fighting force as King Leonidas and his three hundred Spartans, but our will to win is just as strong. Hopefully, history will show that we had a better outcome.
One hundred ships against an Empire. It sounds crazy, but it might just work. One way or another, this will be Earth’s last war.
The end.
To Be Continued…
The Contingency War Series will conclude in the final book, Earth’s Last War.
Earth’s Last War: Read on Kindle
All the books in the series:
- The Contingency
- The Waystation Gambit
- Rise of Nimrod Fleet
- Earth’s Last War
Also By This Author
If you enjoyed this book, please consider reading The Planetsider Trilogy, also by G J Ogden. Available from Amazon and free to read for Kindle Unlimited subscribers.
The Planetsider Trilogy:
A post-apocalyptic thriller with a military Sci-Fi twist
The Planetsider
The Second Fall
The Last of the Firsts
“The strong action sequences and thoughtful worldbuilding make this one worth picking up for fans of plot-driven SF.” - Publishers Weekly
About The Author
At school I was asked to write down the jobs I wanted to do as a ‘grown up’. Number one was astronaut and number two was a PC games journalist. I only managed to achieve one of those goals (I’ll let you guess which), but these two very different career options still neatly sum up my lifelong interests in science, space and the unknown.
School also steered me in the direction of a science-focused education over literature and writing, which influenced my decision to study physics at Manchester University. What this degree taught me is that I didn’t like studying physics and instead enjoyed writing, which is why you’re reading this book! The lesson? School can’t tell you who you are.
When not writing, I enjoy spending time with my family, walking in the British countryside, and indulging in as much Sci-Fi as possible.
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