SCI-FI Story: HECK

It is a funny thing how one little thing can change the fate of the world. If the people of the 21st century had not been so paranoid of new technologies, hundreds of years of carnage could have been avoided. If the old United States had not banned new technologies and forced other nations to do the same, I certainly would not be in hellhole I am in today. Of course, if that happened I may have never known Heck, and who knows where I would be now. Who knows where any of us would be?

A man like Heck is made not born. He is formed under pressure. Like a piece of charcoal, waiting to become a diamond. Supposing the global war of 2035 had not happened a man like Heck might have been lost in the shuffle of billions of people trying to make a living. I was on my way to Deana IV in a troop transport when I met him. It was hard not to think of anything else in the transport other than the smell of rancid vomit and burnt flesh, but something about the guy in the corner smoking a cigar like he hadn’t a care in the world caught my attention.

This was my first mission away from Earth. I was packed in my freshly issued, if not slightly used Ceno body armor and armed with my shiny new Palto 8 assault cannon. I must admit some of the regurgitation that was bothering me was my own. You see the transport to the border is not exactly smooth. A twenty-foot launch in gale force winds and fifteen-foot squalls would be comparable. The source of the burnt flesh was twofold. One came from the new recruits (or FNG as Heck would fondly refer to us) slightly used armor, two came from the motley crew of veterans gathered around to examine how their fallen comrade’s armor fit on the FNGs.

During this feeling out phase, the only vet not concerned with us was Heck. That is why he drew my attention. He stood in the corner with a slight grin across his face. It was like he heard a joke no one else heard. I was not the only one to take notice but I was not the one brave enough to do any thing about it. Pvt. H.R. Lowienstien, our squad leader at Pendelton, was the first to brave the sea of salty vets to confront this enigma.

“Excuse me sir” Lowienstien belted with the confidence of a full bird Colonel. Heck had no rank insignia but it was natural to call him sir.

Of course, Heck did not recognize him at all. Lowienstien tried to make contact again, assuming, I’m sure, that Heck’s hearing had been damaged in some glorious battle. Otherwise, what reason would he have to ignore the magnificent H.R. Lowienstien? Sgt. Henderson, however, interrupted this attempt. Henderson was a 6’ 8’’ giant, who even without his armor, looked like he was made of steel.

“He don’t have time for no damn newbies.” Henderson growled while thrusting his beefy arm in the way of Lowienstien. “You won’t be around long enough to get to know him.” Henderson then proceeded to demonstrate his immense strength by removing Lowienstien with one arm – and tossing him completely across the transport.

This encounter only stiffened Lowenstein’s resolve to prove his worth to the vets. I could see it in his eyes. He certainly was close enough, after all Henderson’s mighty throw placed him firmly upon my lap. A clatter of “you better just lay low” was the advice given by the group of new recruits. I barely knew any of them because I transferred to Pendelton two days before we shipped out.

As fate would have it, he would get his chance to prove himself, because just then a rouge Sungata fighter attacked our transport. The Standard TDA Transport is equipped with eight gun turrets, four on top and four on the bottom. That is, a new TDA Transport has those specs. Ours, being nearly a year old, a lifetime in this war, had a modified turret squarely placed in the middle of the transport. As luck would have it the fighter’s first shot vaporized half the gunners body which left us undefended.

Seeing his opportunity Lowienstien ran for the gunner’s port and promptly entered the chamber to save the day; an action under normal circumstances that would get one labeled a hero. In this case, however the only label attached to Lowienstien, forevermore, is dumbass.

Just when I thought that we were dead, a TDA Techfighter blew the Sungata fighter out of existence. No one said a word until we reached port. Then Heck was the first to break the stunned silence of the room.

“Open the hatch doors!” he barked at me. Just because I was the closest and we had sat a full minute in dock and it was the duty of the soldier closest to open the doors. This little bit of space travel etiquette was lost to me and earned me a stern glare from Henderson.

Before the hatch door was even on the floor Admiral Brooks was in the transport.

“If you guys think you’re catchin’g the flight back to Earth you -had best go see Doc Woodson,” the Admiral said with insincere levity in his voice. This garnered chuckles from the men.

“What can I tell you Brooks?” Heck said. “You gave me a bunch of FNGs.” He said even louder while looking at me for the first time.

“Heard you boys had a little trouble on your way here?” The Admiral said inquisitively.

“Sure as hell did.” Heck responded. He then proceeded to tell the story of the stray fighter and the dead soldier known as dumbass. “Seems -Private Dumbass over there decided it would be a good idea to enter a blown out gunner pod without environmental protection. He got himself all turned inside out when he hit that vacuum.”

“Yeah.” Henderson chimed in. “That pile of guts and bones over there is Pvt. Dumbass.”

Admiral Brooks gave a long look at said guts then gave a command to his aide to order his replacement for Heck. Admiral Brooks then proceeded to leave the transport but not before ordering me to clean up the half gunner and what was left of Pvt. Dumbass. With his exit, the vets followed in a chorus of loud talking and laughing. The new recruits stood in a momentary state of shock over the treatment of their lost comrade but then followed the vets out the door.

As I was turning to go clean up the mess, I heard Heck call out to me. “When you’re done, meet us on the promenade.” With that he left my sight up the causeway. - It would be the better part of four hours before I would join them. As the disgusting details of my current assignment proved to be too much to, I let my mind wander to other things, like how this whole war came to be.

Part 2

The year was 2020; I was yet to be born. That event would occur some 350 years later. The old U.S.A. Congress passed a law outlawing the development of new technologies outside of government control. In other words, they wanted complete control of the current science. The ban would eventually extend to a complete banishment of new technologies in an effort to create a utopian society.

The ban was brought on by the birth of a child. Henry VanBoven was born on December 25, 2018. His parents had more money than most and they took the steps to eliminate a hereditary disease common in the males of the VanBoven family, through genetic engineering. There were unexpected side effects though. Once the teratongenic manipulation of the genes took place, the gestation slowed. It took nearly two years and even then the doctors would not venture to guess when the baby would come. That is until the spontaneous delivery on the 25th.

Immediately the news got out. The baby was supposed to be delivered in the genetics lab, but because of the relative quickness of the delivery, the mother wound up in a local hospital. The mother let the fact that she had been pregnant for over two years slip. In addition, being under the influence of the epidermal, she also let loose the fact that the child was genetically engineered. The news was not taken well by the public. The media that was trying to get ratings or sell subscriptions did not help the hysteria. The way to do that of course is to make the situation sound worse than it is.

The fear of the people of the Los Angeles area got so bad, in a very Mary Shelly kind of way; they stormed the VanBoven Mansion and burnt it to the ground. Only the father survived. These acts of violence led the Government to act in unison in a way not yet seen on Earth. Both of the political parties of the time tried to out do each other on how far to take the protection from evil science. It took just under two years to ban all new technologies.

Science did not stop. Science became a tool of the underworld. Consequently, scientists became crime bosses. The only way to get funding for research was to align themselves with underworld types. Illegal money funded illegal research, but there was a twist. It seems for years the world was being watched by an Extraterrestrial species. The Brazeen are a people whose sole purpose is to exploit other worlds. I never figured out why. Whether it was for profit or fun no one seems to know. The Brazeen started to supply new technologies to the eager population. No one could figure out why. Whether it was for profit or fun, no one seemed to know.

The governments of the world banded together to stop the ever growing crime syndicate of science. Their solution was to develop new technologies of their own. At that point, the Brazeen stepped in and started supplying technologies to those in power. Neither side knew they were being manipulated. Less the twenty years after the ban, the law was worthless. The syndicate, by this time, had complete control over some small countries. The most notable was Australia. Scientists flocked to these havens to do research. Other people came too; those who thought they could profit and those who were fundamentally opposed to the ban.

The so-called legitimate countries of the world decided to strike first. They attacked on March 15, 2035. They thought they had technological superiority over the syndicates. They were wrong. The world was strictly divided. Half the people were vehemently opposed to the scientists. The others thought the governments as oppressive and hypocritical. All hell broke loose. The Tech Wars, as they would come to be known, lasted for nearly one hundred years.

The Brazeen could not believe how fast the technologies advanced. It was not long until most Earth technologies surpassed their own. Eventually, they left the solar system for fear that they would soon be engaged in war with the barbarian people. They sold the territorial rights to the Sungata. By the time they arrived in our solar system the Tech War had moved from the Earth to the farthest reaches of the solar system. The Sungata thought they were getting a new territory ripe for the plucking. Instead they strolled into a war hardened population thirsting for blood. Most of the people forgot why they hated the other side except for the fact their grandfathers hated the other side.

Against the wishes of the high counsel of the Sungata the Overlord Tolouo decided he was not going to loose this territory. His decision was disastrous for the Sungata. Tolouo believed that it would be easy to conquer the solar system and Earth because the population was divided. To his dismay the population, faced with an outside invasion threat, solidified to face this new threat. Now the Sungata were faced with a population with a new resolve; a bloodthirsty warrior race with one goal to destroy the Sungata. So began the Border Wars.

About 85 years later, by this time people pretty much quit counting the years; The Sungata was a shell of the proud race they used to be. They signed a treaty with the Tuntra, a technology inferior race with superior money and intelligence. The Earthlings were, as a whole, defending their territory from all sides from many different species. I was fulfilling my parent’s fondest wishes cleaning another man’s guts from a wall.

Part 3

The actual process took me little more than an hour, but just as I lifted the bag that contained the last of Pvt. Dumbass, the docking chief gave me a new task. “Are you familiar with the nomenclature and installation process for the Decker Twin Chamber Sonic Cannon?”

“No Chief” I said with some bewilderment,

“Well,” he said, while throwing me an installation book, “You will shortly.” On his way out of the ship, he informed me the supply sergeant would be around to collect the spare armor and cannon. As I was finishing, three hours later, the chief came back to inform me I was now certified as a Gunners Mate second class.

“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful but what’s the average life span of a gunner on a ship?”

“I never met a gunner twice.” he said with an evil little smirk on his face.

With that news, I somberly strolled to the promenade deck. When I arrived, I found most of the platoon passed out in the closest establishment that serves liquor; all except Heck, Henderson, and the Admirals Aide, Captain Schull. I doubt Henderson could even get drunk if he consumed every drop of liquor on the promenade deck. Schull was actually a chaplain enlisted by the admiral because of his obvious wit. Heck said he had his own reasons for not consuming intoxicating beverages. When I appeared Heck invited me to sit.

Henderson congratulated me on my new rank. He said it was Heck’s idea to give me the extra detail. I said given the choice I would rather not have the rank and Heck said: “A man after my own heart.”

With that, Heck told me to get some sleep. I picked a spot on the floor and tried to close my eyes. Within minutes, I figured out why wanton drunkenness was so prevalent. The armor was impossible to sleep in unless you were passed out. I gave it my all to keep my eyes shut, but to no avail. While lying there on the floor, eyes wide open, I saw things that proved to be most interesting. Heck picked a spot in the upper promenade deck that overlooked the lower deck where the rest of the men were out cold. Out of a closed office on the upper deck appeared a group of high ranking military officials.

Seated were: Admiral Brooks, head of the fleet, General Pickett, head of military insurrections, Admiral Delancy head of military intelligence; in addition, a smattering of various aide-de-camps. Seeing brass on the largest military staging site in space is not

unusual, but seeing them all salute Heck and shake his hand as if he were visiting dignitary was. Heck could not have been more than 35 years old, and here was a group of the highest ranking officials the army has to offer, all over 50, looking at Heck as if he was their father.

The group moved to a nearby table and sat. The topic of discussion, whatever it was, seemed to garner strong emotions from all seated. Most notably, Admiral Delancy was quite animated. She is a very striking woman, with strong chiseled facial features. Apparently, the topic at hand had much to do with military security. I could not make out what was being said because I was too far away. I guess I fell asleep because the next thing I new Henderson had his boot on my neck.

“If you don’t mind we have somewhere to be today,” he said, “interrupting your beauty sleep is the last thing I wanted to do.”

“It’s alright Sarge,” I said.

“We move out in ten minutes,” Henderson bellowed to the entire troop, “so get your shit together and be in the docking ring in five minutes.”

With that, the station sprang to life. Ours was not the only platoon on the station. It was obvious, even to the most uninformed observer, that this was an invasion force. Five minutes later I found myself crammed onto the docking ring with hundreds of other grunts most were itching for battle. The group commander General Penington gave us our orders.

“Today we attack the Sungata stronghold in the Asteroid belt Delta 3. We will attack within the hour. Bravo Group will spear head the attack on Asteroid C-3501. Your job is to take over the power stores and eliminate any hostiles. Gamma Group will take Asteroid C-3609. Your task is to take the launching facilities out, neutralize any pilots and space craft support teams. Finally, Theta Group will follow up making the asteroids ready for salvage. That is all.”

With that, the General left and the doors to the transports fell open and each group entered. I, however, was blissfully unaware of what battle group I belonged to. It really didn’t matter though because I was just as qualified to take over a space port, capture a power plant, or salvage duty as I was to repair a Decker Twin Chamber Sonic Cannon. I am now considered an expert in the field and I was afraid my new expertise would be put to task on our way to Delta 3.

“Hey you!” A voice came from behind me clearly meant to grab my attention. “What do you think you are doing getting into my pod?”

“Well sir,” I retorted, “I was made a Gunner yesterday so I assumed that I should take my proper place in the gunner pod.”

“That would be true only if someone winds up pouring me out of my armor.”

“I don’t under stand sir.”

“You are a Gunners Mate Second Class, which means you die after me.”

“Ah, I understand. I am to be your back up.”

“Right now grab some floor, and if anything happens to me don’t forget your environmental gear.”

I was positively beaming with the discovery of my new found fortune. I thought for sure I was to die on the way to Delta 3. Now I had a better than average chance of making it there. I sat down next to Henderson and waited for the transport to take off. My EE chimed in unison.

“You FNG,” Heck yelled pointing at me, “Report to the cockpit with me.”

You would think that the term FNG would get on my nerves, quite the contrary though. Being a new person to the battle group, nobody wanted to know your name. Chances are that you would not be around long enough for someone to remember you any way. At least Heck looked at you when he talked to you. 
Part 4 

The cockpit was a small compartment with four seats, two in the front and two in the back. It was decked out in control panels and flashing lights and switches. It was all very impressive looking. Suddenly, I was overcome with the fear that I was about to become an expert on flying a transport. There were three men in the cabin. The two in front were obviously pilots, you could tell by the wings on their chest and their rank insignia on their shoulder. There was also a man sitting in the chair behind the left pilot. He was the first man I had seen since leaving Earth that was not decked out in armor. I did recognize his uniform though; it was the same as Admiral Delancy. The distinct black shirt, black pants combination, with little or no military insignias. Only this man wore Lieutenant Bars. Also notable, was that he was a man. Most of the intelligence arm of the military was women. It seems women were better at espionage than men could ever be. I never ventured to guess why, feel free to make your own conclusions.

“I found your volunteer,” Heck reported to the man in black.

“Thanks Heck, have a seat,” The man said pointing to the adjacent seat. “You feel free to keep standing,” he said, pointing at me. I must admit this was a difficult task in a moving transport. Then it hit me, Heck said that I volunteered. Suddenly my throat was again in conflict with the little contents that my stomach had to offer. It seemed they were hell bent on getting out.

“FNG this is your new Lieutenant. He has a special

assignment for you,” Heck said without taking his

eyes off the horizon out the window of the craft.

“Soldier,” the Lieutenant said with a less than authoritative military voice, “you are promoted to PFC. and are in charge of an important detail when we reach C-3501.”

“Thank God,” I interrupted, “for a minute I thought you wanted me to learn how to fly this thing.”

“No, that would be insane. You are now in charge of demolitions on C-3501. It’s going to be your job to sneak up to the fortified enemy perimeter and blow a hole through the wall so Bravo Group can move in.”

“Excuse me sir, is it to late to learn how to fly this instead?” I questioned hoping this was a joke but knowing it was not.

“Report to Sgt. Stegman to get your new gear. The Lieutenant and I have things to discuss.” Just like that I felt the certainty of my forthcoming death was imminent. Strangely, though I felt better. I looked around at the men when I departed the cabin and I felt pity for them. At least I knew when I was going to die. They still had to wonder and some even had hope they would live.

Stegman, like so many other soldiers, was illiterate.

Trying to hold a conversation with the man was 

useless. So I just said, “Give me the demolition 

gear,” and without question, he handed me a bi

g silver case with one hand that I could barely c

arry with two.

“Glad the new LT is sending a newbie like I asked,” Stegman said to a nearby Vet. “I sure as hell didn’t want to get me arse blow'd to shit on this one.”

Now fully confident, I broke open the case to try to learn how to use the demolitions without blowing up the transport. Zombie like, I browsed through the box of explosives as if it were an old magazine. I could tell those around me were becoming increasingly nervous due to my continued exploration. Several times I thought to myself I should just incinerate this ship now and get it over with, but being an honorable man, my sense of duty forbade such a cowardly act.

Now it was too late to think of it anyway. The transport had landed. We were on the dark side of C-3501. We could see the lights from the reactor in the distance. The advantage of the ground assault was that most of the perimeter defenses were established for an aerial attack. Therefore, we, or more to the point, I, could walk right up and touch the wall without being detected.

“Everyone get your environmental gear on,” Heck ordered, “and clear the ramp.” With that order the transport’s main door dropped like a stone, and the armada of men pored from the orifice. “FNG, you have two hours to get the ordinance in place and get clear. Daylight hits in two hours five minutes. We are detonating from here, so if you are not clear you are going up with it.” With those orders, I headed out to what was sure to be my last minutes of existence.

Part 5

Trying to get to the fortification was a labor I will not soon forget. I started out carrying the chest of explosives. Lacking the strength of a Sgt. Stegman, I could not haul it far by hand. I wound up dragging the case. It seemed every single step I made; I was moving slower and slower. This made me certain I was shortly going to be blown to minute fragments. By some miracle, I reached the wall. The thought occurred to me to just sit the case next to the wall and I sit on top to wait for the detonation. My sense of duty interfered again. I methodically placed the charges against the wall. The daylight was touching the horizon. I knew my time was up. I collapsed on the ground from exhaustion. I looked to the wall and saw the triggering lights turn on. Only seconds now. I saw Bravo group coming up the valley, I tried to wave my arm to tell them to keep back, but I could not lift it. Then there was a bright light and a deafening sound.

I seriously doubt that by examining my childhood one could forecast the events of my life. In my time, no one was more revered than a scientist was. Therefore, if you had a scientist in your immediate family life would be good. If you had two, life was better. I had three my mother Virginia, my father Jonathan and my older brother Theodore. My early years were spent being groomed by my family for a career in science. I was always playing with some gadget, manipulating particles, molecules, some damn thing or another. It all had little meaning to me. I preferred spending my mornings in the jungles of Africa, and spend my afternoon’s visiting relics in Europe. More often than not, my parents would see to it that I stayed in Canada, where I was born, to study all things technical.

When I was young, I never much cared for my little province of Canada. Missouri was never my favorite place to be. I begged my father to move to New York. He did not like the idea of moving to the Canadian City with the highest crime rate; in addition, the fact there is over 10,000,000 people. Therefore, I was stuck in Herman Mo. It is small town of just under 1,000,000 people. Now I would give anything to get back there and never leave.

My daily regiment to become the next Stephen Hawking felt never ending. All of the scientist’s role models came from the late 20th century, because after that no one is sure who invented what, or whether or not aliens gave it to us. My parents seemed to disregard the fact that I showed no aptitude at all for technology. This atmosphere fueled my desire to leave.

My true passion lies in studying the human condition. I became fascinated with sociology. I read all I could on the subject. I read Durkhiem and Marx; I read the Chaos theory. I read it all. Before the age of twelve, I had been published in several scientific journals. I was sure I was not going to be drafted into the military. The only way to completely avoid military service is to be an accredited scientist. I was sure even then; I would have no problems. My father, on the other hand, was not as sure. When I turned fourteen my father sent me to a military officer candidate school. He figured I would be drafted and if I did, I might as well be an officer. He listed my expertise in technological research, my weakest area.

I did not take long for the real scientists to realize I was not suited for researching technology, and without telling my parents, my area of expertise was changed to military intelligence. MI took full advantage of my expertise on the human condition and put me to work researching the Union’s enemies. I spent zero time studying military tactics, and even less learning how to fight. I did learn, however, to be a soldier. When I returned home my father was quite pleased with my new attitude. I spent a total of nine months in MI and was told if I were drafted, there was a good chance I would be assigned to that division.

I returned home to a renewed effort by my father to teach me all he could about researching technologies. I could not tell him that I spent less than three days in the research department due to the security agreement I signed. My official cover story was I study technological research and received high marks. That info was hard for my father to assimilate. He was from Great Briton, and the fact his son learned from others more than he learned from him caused a little bit of a fracas. His British pride would not allow that trend to continue. The major problem with that was I did not spend nine months researching; I did not get good marks. So when my father attempted to test my new knowledge he got little encouragement from me. This made matters worse. He felt I was being obstinate, like I was purposely defying him. He concluded that the only reason I did well was that I was in a regimented setting. Therefore, he started strictly scheduling my day. No detail was left out; not even bathroom breaks.

The real tragedy here was that I was neglecting my actual field of expertise, which would be calamitous for me later. The technological terms never stuck with me. Not in biology, computer technology, engineering, physics anything. In fact, at one point my father went so far as to acquire a research grant to study if I were missing a gene that the rest of the family had that allowed me to understand science. It is all very amusing to think about now, but then it felt like utter hell. My father was determined to keep me out of military service.

I was not worried though, I felt so strongly in my abilities in sociology that I was sure to avoid the draft. It did not occur to me that the social sciences were not accepted by the government as accredited science, and therefore could not be used to avoid military service.

Until the time I was eighteen I was inundated with every known technical science known to man, and retained none of it. At eighteen I bid my father and his science farewell and moved to New York to study sociology. I wanted to be totally anonymous so I set up a false identity. I released studies for publication under my given name and lived in New York under my alias. This was necessary so my neighbors would not know I was studying them. Then the worst happened. My name appeared on the draft board, both of them. I immediately went to the local military office and spoke with the officials there to try to clear this up.

They understood about the alias, and I showed them proof of my real identity. The Sergeant at the desk asked me to wait until he could clear the matter up with his supervisors. The head of the office, Commander Wilmington, informed me that I was to ship out immediately. I protested, telling them that I was a scientist. He asked to see my certification. I said I am not in a tech science rather that I am a sociologist. To my chagrin he informed me that, my field was not an essential science and that makes me expendable.

My previous records were disclosed and I was sent to Intel Base Alpha in Cartihagnia Columbia. It was the center for all intelligence on Earth. It was so secret that even while I was in intelligence before, I had no idea it was there. I always thought Columbia was a wasteland left over from the Tech Wars. I spent two years training there until it was disclosed that I received no additional training after I left MI the first time and I was reassigned to Camp Pendelton. My time was not lost there though; I did learn the names of just about every command officer in the Union and most of the Sungata commanders too. I was not to upset about being transferred. The base commander, at the time, Captain Delancy and I did not get along. I was also sure that I was being transferred to Pendelton to take on a clerical job, and keeping my rank of Ensign. I was sure they were not going to use an intellect like mine for mere cannon fodder. Again I found my confidence misplaced. Within two days of my arrival I was striped of my rank and told I was to start infantry training immediately.

Before I could report to the platoon Sergeant; the base Commander found out I had been in the service for two year and assumed I had enough training. You see the other military commanders are unaware of how MI operates because they are not allowed to know, and I could not tell them otherwise or I would be immediately executed. Therefore, it was decided that I was to ship out with a group of freshly graduated cadets on my way to fight in the Border War.

Part 6

The light in the room was not cheery, quite the contrary. I did not believe it was the light’s fault it looked gloomy, but rather it was the room. I could not have been sure; being I just opened my eyes. This was a particular surprise to me, because I distinctly remember being blown up. If the after life were illuminated in such a way, I would surely be disappointed in the experience. Being a practical and inquisitive man, I decided further examination of my surroundings was warranted.

Propping myself up on my elbows, I realized I was in a bed; a small uncomfortable bed, but a bed non-the less. The texture, the smell, and general look of disrepair indicated to me that it was a hospital bed. Logic would then lead me to believe that I was in a hospital. I could not focus on anything more than a foot in front of me, so further examination of my surroundings would have to wait. My eyes closed; whether or not it was voluntary I really did not care.

When I awoke I still could not see, and I was not exactly sure how long I was unconscious. I was very anxious to gain some vision back, for there was a disturbing smell coming from about two meters away from my left. More accurately, the smell was all around me, but it seemed to be centralized to the left of me. Again though the urge to pass out was overwhelming and I succumbed without a fight. When I woke once again I had some sight back, though I would come to wish I had either stayed asleep or remained blind.

I found myself in a most disturbing place, a morgue ship. The good news was that I found out what the smell was. It was about forty-five rotting corpses all around me. The closest one was to my left. It was Sgt. Stegman, or what was left of him anyway. Most of the bodies seemed to be burnt beyond recognition, horribly disfigured or partially liquefied. Then the ship shook violently. I realized that we had come to port wherever that may be.

It occurred to me that port might be Earth. My sense of vanity came over me; I blame my father for that. He always said a man should be presentable whenever he calls upon a new destination. My mother always said looking fancy was for people with nothing better to do with their time. Well I found myself on a ship where the other occupants were not a good source of stimulating conversation. It could be reasonably stated that in fact I had nothing better to do with my time. I started a search for a comb and a mirror, though I would have settled for a comb. I knew I did not carry such items on me so I began to rummage through the belongings of the unfortunate souls, besides they wouldn’t need it anymore. It seemed God was with me on my little scavenger hunt; the first person I checked had both items. I placed the comb in my teeth, picked up the mirror and took a look.

It seems that every time I think God is on my side, it’s actually meant to teach me a lesson or a cruel joke of some kind. I knew immediately why they placed me on a morgue ship. I looked like death. I was burnt from head to tail. The comb I had clinched in my teeth dropped from my mouth when I saw my face. I reached down to grab it with my left hand, being my right hand was occupied with my mirror. Problem was I had no left hand to grab with. If memory serves, I remember actually getting my left hand in the air to try to wave back the troops, and then there was that bright light. The brilliant light backlit my hand in the air. Then there was nothing but light.

I was very pleased to find that I was not bleeding to death, for the explosion had cauterized my forearm. I was never able to fully get used to the violence of the war, nor did I have a shell to help me deal with the loss of humanity. For a moment though, I did not care about it at all. All I could think about was that my hand was now part of the atmosphere of some stinking hole of a planet. Then it occurred to me my hand might be in the pile of flesh beneath me. Therefore, I began a new scavenger hunt, of a sort, to find my hand. I spent the rest of my flight, to where ever this flight was going.

A jarring thud awoke me. We had docked. The bay door dropped, and a group of corpsmen dressed in HAZMAT gear started hauling the dead out. Then they noticed one of the dead was standing. They looked squarely at me looking at them. Time seemed to stop while they contemplated what to do with the charred lump of flesh standing looking at them holding his left hand in his right. I could not see their faces through their gear but I imagined that their jaws were dropped.

Again, my consciousness seemed to leave me because the next thing I remember was waking up in a hospital bed. I was all cleaned up. Burns were mostly healed and I had two hands again. I could not help but notice something about my condition and I made it a point to ask the doctor about it as soon as I saw one. For the next hour or so I dreamt then, a doctor came to visit me.

“Hi Doc,” I said. “I have two questions. First, why did you use a black arm for prosthesis, and second when do I get discharged?”

The doctor got a confused look on his face and began to, ever so delicately, explain the situation. “You are not being discharged. In fact, I have your orders to go back to your unit. Concerning your arm, well, we thought that was yours. You see that is the one you were brought in with. We thought it was yours. You were all burnt so we could not tell exactly what race you were. Since we did not use a prothstesis, you’re not eligible for discharge.”

Usually my vocabulary rarely fails me but when the news hit me the only thing I could do was glare at the wall. The doctor, sensing my dissatisfaction, used that moment of silence to make his exit. I noticed his absence after a while and began making plans for vengeance on the hospital staff that was so eager to send me back to the front. Unfortunately, my plans would be useless. I would never see the doctor or the hospital ship again. It seems that shortly after my shuttle departed the ship, it was attacked and destroyed.

However, not knowing that info, I sat in my bed and planned a vicious attack of stink bombs, or some other childish prank, to help me voice my dissatisfaction. Then he walked in, Heck.

“Congratulations,” Heck said while beaming at me, “You have been promoted!” Heck helped lift me up to a seated position, and then shook my hand vigorously. All the while he had a look on his face that can be best described as, in the late Sgt. Stegman’s words, a shit eatin’ grin.

“What do you mean, promoted?” I questioned drowsily.

“Well first, you are no longer a FNG,” He sounded off while slapping me on my not yet completely healed upper back. “And second, you made staff Sgt. In charge of explosive incendiary devices.”

“You call that peace of disturbing news, good?” I barked with total bewilderment.

“Well sure, but you haven’t heard the best part.”

“Oh,” I replied sarcastically, “this gets better?”

“You are back under my command, and you get to train a whole butt load of FNGs how to blow shit up.” Heck belted it out like he was jealous. “Report to transport Bravo-2, ASAP.” Heck sternly ordered me and left the room without giving me a chance to protest the fact that I was still in the infantry let alone the new job of ‘blowing shit up’.

Part 7

While contemplating how to teach young men to become human bombs, I made my way to the docking ring. I was feeling very clumsy in my freshly issued Ceno armor. This particular armor was the demolition rated gear. One good thing about my new position has to be the new armor. It had never been used. You see most of the time when a soldier is disintegrated by an unintentional ordnance discharge the armor goes too.

As I tripped aboard the transport, Heck was introducing me. “Listen up, FNGs; you are all now on ordinance detail. You all will be trained to blow shit up!” With that, the gathering of men chuckled with nervous excitement. “You will be working with Sgt. BOOM here.” That, by the way, was the first time I heard my new moniker. “He is the foremost expert on incendiary devices the union has. He has the longest tenure of any demolitions man currently active in the Union Infantry. Come say something to your recruits Sgt.” With that Heck raised his hand, pointed too me and motioned me to step forward.

That also was the first moment I realized that he was talking about me and not to me. It seemed that since I lived through the attack on C-3501, and the other demolition men had not; I now had the longest tenure in the infantry. Living through an ordnance attack also gave me the distinction of becoming an expert in the field since it had rarely been done before.

I stumbled to attention and tried to talk, but nothing came out. It seemed that this new info short-circuited the synapse pathways for speaking with new responses for the anal sphincter to pucker. This made walking in my new gear none the easier. Gathering my strength, I began to mumble. “Welcome aboard. The most important thing is not getting blown to shit.” Feeling my confidence rise again, I decided to elaborate. “Any fool can blow himself up; the trick is to demolish a target without getting killed.” Normally when I get talking I rarely stop without prompting. At that point, however felt I said all that needed to be said. I sat down, wondering what else I could tell these people later.

Out of nowhere, Sgt. Henderson dropped his massively framed body down next to me. Of course, he did not have his armor on, Sometimes I thought he liked sitting next to me just to show off how much bigger he was in comparison to me. Henderson proceeded to place his sizable arm firmly around my neck, while drawing me closer to him. Not that Henderson ever spoke softly; he tried to whisper in my ear.

“Put your damn pants on the right way. You can’t show these FNG’s how to blow shit up if you can’t even show them how to put on the armor the right way.”

It seems the reason I had trouble walking was that my armored pants were on backwards. I quickly made my way to the head to revise the situation. On my way, I glanced at Heck long enough to notice a wry smile on his face. It would occur to me later that Henderson, just like everyone else, probably did not have a clue as to how the gear looked either. I concluded that Heck must have prompted him to confront me. Getting Henderson to embrace someone is not exactly a chore. The man absolutely takes enormous pleasure in causing others emotional pain.

I remember one instance in which a poor soul came to Henderson for advice on a particularly nasty social disease. A disease that is picked up at only the worst moons brothels. Henderson confided in him that his secret was safe with him. This disease consists of worms infiltrating the body and burning up when they are exposed to the host’s white blood cell. You might think that this would mean a quick end to the disease but they reproduce so fast. The rate of reproduction is slightly higher than the rate of combustion. It’s not fatal but extremely painful, since it happens at the microscopic level.

The next day the whole division not only knew about him but also started using a nickname. He became Pvt. Worm. Not long after that, the division was on assignment. It was not a particularly dangerous assignment. Somehow, Pvt. Worm got himself killed. He was the only casualty of the movement. I believe that maybe the torment was too much for him. Henderson, I believe, was in fact responsible for my new moniker of Sgt. Boom. 

Part 8

With a sudden jolt of the transport, Bravo-2 was on its way to the staging base SB-299. It occurred to me I had never been to a staging base or anywhere else either. The thought that I had been in the military a relatively short time and carried a rank of respect, and had a position of responsibility had eluded me till that very moment. Here I was about to lead a group of men to, I could only assume, would be an ordinance heavy experience. It was no secret why there were such rapid promotions.

In the service, life expectancy was less than long lived. You have a better than average chance to live through your tour of service if you serve aboard a starship (not a fighter). The next long-lived profession is Infantry, followed by the Marines, Demolition and Engineers. Believe it or not, the engineers have the shortest life expectancy. In fact, if you found yourself in a position of serving in a specialized vocation, your chances become less than 50-50 that you won’t come back from your first mission.

I have been promoted because I lived. Twice I had been assigned a specialized vocation and lived; that merits promotion. “Sgt. Boom.” Heck bellowed from the corridor leading from the cargo area which headed to the forward compartments of the transport. A standard TDA transport has the cockpit in view of the cargo area. It does inspire awe with its size. The Bravo transport however is a sight so imposing those Sungata fighters rarely go near them. Henderson says they just do not have the balls. I, having studied the Sungata during my time in MI, I realize they’re just not that stupid. You see the Bravo class transport has a compliment of over 120 gunners, along with a series of automated plasma cannons and guided missiles. “Lets go Boom we got us a meeting with the brass about our mission.”

In the forward compartments are located quarters for the higher-ups. Heck never used them; he always stayed with the men. That is if he slept at all. Although I still had no idea what his rank was, I am sure he could get one if he asked. Also in the forward area are conference rooms, armories, labs; you name it they got it. Our point of destination was a conference room. Upon our arrival, I was greeted by an array of brass that would make even the most seasoned captain quiver in his boots. Therefore, you can imagine my trepidation.

“Take a seat gentleman, we are finally all here.” It was Admiral Delancy, looking as stunning and ridged as usual. I believe her “Finally” was directed at me. We all sat at a large oval table. I was stationed closest to the door. This was fine with me, in case I felt like bolting. I was moving in my chair like someone set my armor on fire, only because I was unaware of exactly why I was called to this meeting. I would later find out that the most senior ordinance officer was always included in briefing meetings. Or should I say expected to be there. That was why I was greeted with irritation.

The meeting began by explaining our current destination, asteroid TDA SP-313; our most remote base was near the Luntare border. The Luntare had previously been neutral in the border wars. Now though, with prompting of the Sungata and manipulation by the Brazeen, who were still hoping to double cross everyone and gain the Earth as a territory, they entered the fight against the Alliance. The Luntare are not particularly advanced technologically, but what they do have is bodies; lots of them. Their population is by far the largest of the known galaxy. They are not the most intellectual of the races you could meet. There is some speculation that if the Brazeen had not given them the technologies the Luntare would still be living in caves.

We would be holding over a SB-299 for 72 hours for supply and re-staffing and then moving on to TDA SP-313. My job at SP-313 would be to put up a defensive perimeter around the newly refitted base on the asteroid. Currently the base is the smallest in the Association. Now we are under a great threat on that border and it’s imperative that we bolster the area. Hearing the wonderful news that I would not be part of an offensive, I was almost giddy. Had I known that once we arrived at SB-299, it would be known across the galaxy as the great battle at SB-299, or just SB-299. To this day that phrase sends chills up my spine.

Heck tapped me on the shoulder and prompted our departure. “Let’s bail; they are just going to argue with each other over logistics. Go back to the cargo area and catch some sleep.” With that Heck slapped me on the back and sent me on my way down the corridor to the cargo area. He, however, went the other way. I never could figure out what he did with his time, but I know he rarely slept, or ate or anything.

Minutes later I found myself back in the cargo hold. I always felt disconcerted about being referred to as cargo. But right then I was too tired to care. I settled in on a spot next to the batch of FNG’s and tried to fall asleep. But my new armor was even more uncomfortable than my old stuff. Then off in the distance I saw Henderson waving his immense arm in the air and sensed I knew he wasn’t trying to get the attention of a newbie I knew it was meant for me. I made my way over to Henderson. Once in striking distance, Henderson’s arm found its way around my neck, which is rather small in comparison. “Do I have to teach you everything Boom? You don’t sit with the FNG’s.”

“I can’t imagine why it makes a difference where I sit Henderson.” My reply garnered the ire of Henderson. His brow seemed to sink halfway down his nose, with a stern glare, that seemed to pierce my armor.

“Frankly I don’t give a good goddamn if you sit with a hoard of Sungata creampuffs, but if you want to stay alive you don’t sit with newbies. They’re the first ones to get liquefied if we get attacked.”

I couldn’t argue with his logic. With a nod of agreement, I took a seat next to my new friend Henderson. “Here take this.” he said handing me a little white pill, and before I could ask him if it was cyanide he added: “It’s a sleeping pill. We don’t waste them on FNG’s that’s why you never got one before. We let them drink themselves to sleep it helps’em dull the thought of diyn.”

Part 9

As disturbing as this new found revelation was, I took my pill and waited for the effect to take hold. I sat there and let my mind wander secure in the fact that I was now considered a veteran. All it took was one mission and living in that order. I could not help but wonder if we, the TDA, had the manpower to deal with the Luntare. Humans as a whole are viewed as little better than rats in the galaxy. It is also noted that we tend to multiply like rabbits. Our women have the shortest gestation period of any known race. That is how we have managed to wage war with at least 12 different species. Most of the men believed it to be only 4 now counting the Luntare. But being a MI guy I knew better. They didn’t make that data general knowledge due to the fact it might demoralize the men.

Our population became a real problem around the time of the VanBoven baby. A population boom, like no other, started around 2021. The earth’s population seemed to regard regular folks as inferior. And since only the rich could afford the process it made the hysteria all that much worse. The public got wind of the birth and in a co-coordinated effort by the so-called legitimate governments and the rouge nations, the young child Henry King was killed less than a year after he was born in a raid by the combined military forces. That co-operation could have been the beginning of a new area on Earth. Unfortunately a firefight broke out amongst the groups while on the King Estate. Most of the rebel forces were killed. Some say the legitimate army planed it all along. That act extended the war another 50 years.

J. Thomas King was executed in Columbia, South America sometime later. The rebels launched a major offensive sometime later in an attempt to take the military strongholds in that nation. It left the country a wasteland; so most people thought. We, of course, know there is the MI base there now. The U.S. Army was heavily hurt by the attacks. The lack of population in the U.S. left it ripe for attack. And that is exactly what happened. It held out for nearly two decades until Canada, which was a rouge Nation invaded with its ever expanding population and took over the country in some of the bloodiest fighting of the entire war. The U.S. did not want to use weapons of mass destruction on its own soil. And the Canadians wanted the country in tact so they did not use them either.

The weapon of choice was the new Plato assault rifle. It fired a depleted uranium round via an Electro-magnetic pulse. The uranium was harder than steel and could pierce anything. Palto was an arms manufacturer in China. China was neutral through the entire war; supplying arms to both sides. They were the only Country to remain neutral. It was thought that they would try and take over the world when they felt both sides were weak enough. In my time in the Military Intel, I found the Chinese were taking orders and technologies straight from the Brazeen. That was how they were going to take over. China was the only government they made direct contact with.

That was to be the thing that saved the Earth. By the time the wars spread to the rest of the solar system the nation states were relatively week. The Chinese were about to make their move. The Brazeen sent some Sungata advisors with new weapons technologies to assist the Chinese. At this point in time the Brazeen were in negotiations with the Sungata for the rights to Earth. One of the representatives of the Sungata carried their version of the common cold. It is fatal to earthlings and very contagious. Most people die within 48 hours. Within several weeks, most of China’s population was wiped out.

Once the rest of the world became aware of the outbreak in China, the warring factions came together in an act of solidarity and fire bombed the entire country. To make sure the virus spread no further. Of course, the scientists saved a few specimens to make a cure. When the word got out the virus was alien and evidence was found that showed the intentions of the Sungata, the wars came to a sudden stop. The people prepared for the invasion of the Sungata.

Part 10

SB-299 was something to see. If I had to guess I would have to say it was something frontier-like. Right out of the old west of U.S. history. Except, of course, armor replaced chaps and ten-gallon hats. And the only women aboard were fighting with you and not in a frolicking mood. All pleasures of that sort were left to digital pleasures. Something Henderson loved. There were no women in Bravo Company. Like I said most women were in Military Intelligence, again draw your own conclusion. Other companies were aboard SB-299 in Infantry. Most of whom, were known to take any man they could get. Unfortunately they all looked like Henderson. I prefer my females a little softer. Since I never could get into the digital stuff, unlike several of my compatriots, I liked stimulating conversation; I just went to the promenade deck to enjoy the sights.

Once docked at SB-299 a gaggle of salty vets pressed me so tightly against the loading, unloading ramp that I thought I was going to pass out. Not from my lungs being compressed, but the stench of battle hardened vets with BO and burnt flesh. The smell is, well, it cannot be described. The ramp dropped, and the rush of humanity was unstoppable. So much so that I found myself square on the ground my mouth filling with the unflattering taste of transport floor that had several hundred soldiers crammed in it for several days.

After regaining my upright stature, I felt the need to take a look around before venturing “westward.” The station lay out looks like several rings connected to a big tube. The rings run up and down the length of the tube with one really large ring right in the middle. That’s where all the action is. So, I went to the outside first. Walking through I noticed there were establishments in the outer most part of the main decks (the tube). This is where the regular crew relaxes. I, as always, stood out like a sore thumb. Not because I had one black hand either. I was wearing armor and no one else was. I noticed something I could only describe as a café. It was full of officers and station crew, well groomed and smartly dressed in their uniforms. I garnered several glances as I strolled through. I heard a few “look, its Infantry,” and, “I hope he won’t break anything.” I decided if I were to stay I would want to change my appearance.

I found a locker room near by. To my delight I found something I was sure they didn’t have on the main promenade deck; showers. I stripped from my armor and stashed it in a nearby locker, jumped in a nearby shower and emerged minutes later sparkling clean. I had a much better aroma even if I do say so myself. I rejoined the gathering at the café in my uniform usually hidden by several inches of armor plating, in search of stimulating conversation. Besides there were several members of intelligence present who were all women and a large gathering of pilots who also tended to be female. Women in the espionage I think I figured out, but the women pilots I never will understand.

I stood for a moment looking around until a table made up of three men and two ladies called me over. A small dark haired unassuming man spoke first. “You there,” he yelled passionately, “are you really infantry? You don’t seem the like.” With that I could almost feel myself blushing. “Come, come sit with us we have an extra chair.” With that I nodded and made my way to the table.

“That a boy. Say, you are small for infantry aren’t you?” the dark haired man said. “My name is Reggie by the way and this is Ian, Marcus, Stephanie, and Amelia.” He said pointing at the members of the table.

“You have some right calling him small Reggie.” Marcus belted gleefully. This garnered a smattering of laughter from not only the members of my table but those around the occasional polite glances for conversational purposes.

I took a drink of the reddish liquid they were consuming from the pitcher in the middle of the table, when they saw the thing that would monopolize our time together; my black hand.

“Look Marcus I think you two might be related” Said the woman identified as Amelia

“My, my, how on earth did that happen?”

I told them how the stray appendage became my own; an effective display of story telling, if I may be so bold. At least I thought it was, gauging by the looks on their faces anyway.

Reggie asked again, “So, you really are infantry?”

Amelia cut in the conversation, “Are you daft our something?”

Marcus mouthed back at Amelia, “Why would you ask a question like that, look at the insignia on his shoulder? Do you think that the other infantry would let him walk around like that? Get real.

It was then that I noticed the insignia on Marcus’s shoulder; a Fleet Captain. “Are you a captain aboard this vessel sir, I asked?”

“No, I command the TDA Manalo.” he said throwing his chest back with pride.

I had heard of that ship. It was a savior to many a vessel cruising from station to station. A medium class cruiser, armed to the teeth and a brave, if not crazy commander, Capt. Seaser. “Marcus Seaser?” I questioned in disbelief. “Don’t worry about it, we are just relaxing here.”

Every one nodded and I began to relax. I told them, with some prompting, how I came to be in the infantry. I left out one small detail that I don’t think is relevant.

Marcus told Reggie, “I can’t believe they have someone as educated as him geared for cannon fodder.”

Stephanie turned to Marcus, “can’t we have him transferred to the Manalo. We are down several members of our away teams.”

“I tell you what; as soon as I leave here I will have my first officer Stephanie get a hold of General Tomlinson and see if I can’t get you aboard. I’m sure the Admiralty won’t deny my request”

With that we all raised our glasses in a cheer. You know what; maybe God does like me after all. Just when I was comfortable in my surroundings all hell broke loose. There was the biggest damn explosion I have ever heard. The café, where we were, sat at the top of the station located at the end of the tube. A blast tore through the area and I smelled the familiar smell of freshly burning flesh as my body was tossed across the platform. I heard the sound of what I assumed to be emergency bulkheads coming down covering the exposed glass, and the siren alerting all aboard. We were under attack.

Part 11

I found that some of the burning flesh I smelled was my own. Unfortunately, I left most of it on the floor when I got up. It just peeled off my back like an orange. I heard the moans of other wounded people about me but I was only looking for my table mates. All around me I could hear the sounds of energy blasts hitting the hull and the return fire from the stations guns. I located Marcus or what I thought was him. I saw the rank insignia on his shoulder and his nameplate on his chest, but I didn’t see was his face. Next to him was Reggie I think, again there was a problem, no head. I found Amelia alive, badly burnt and bleeding. I also found most of Stephanie, the upper most. She was alive but I could not understand why.

A few medics entered the area and they told me to get back to my unit. That would be easier said than done. I agreed and went for my armor only to find the locker empty. Knowing the situation was dire; I abandoned my search and headed back to the transport where I ran into Cpl. John McGinnis. He was also from Bravo Company. He looked me up and down and without saying a word I could tell he did not approve of my missing armor. We rounded the corner and I could hear that Heck was already in the middle of a briefing to Bravo and Ocean companies.

“….So, I want Bravo on ring three and Ocean on ring four to repel the boarders. Grab your assault riffles on your way out. You better take some DSRT-grenades along also, no frags though we don’t want to rip a hole through the bulkheads and get ourselves sucked into space. Lastly, don’t forget your environmentals there are holes all over the ship so put them on. Boom and Henderson, that includes you two. Now move out!”

The men laughed at Heck’s remarks and then sprang into action like a pack of wild dogs, including me. I then realized what Heck said. He noticed I wasn’t wearing my armor. Henderson never really wore his so now the guys think we are the same, great. I was waiting to grab some gear and I felt a mammoth hand around my back that could only be Henderson. “So you’re trying to show me up, huh?”

“Not really Henderson, it was the damndest thing you see….”

“We don’t have time to chat now boys,” Heck interrupted me while reaching over my shoulder and grabbing a Palto 8 from the rack. “Boom, you take squad two to area four on the lower decks. It is a weak point but there have been no reports of enemy activities in that sector. They are all newbies Boom, so take care of them.”

“Squad two, on me!” I shouted and a bunch of young faces looking very nervous surrounded me looking scared and lost. “We are moving to the lower decks to set up a defensive perimeter.” I had no idea what I was saying but I wanted to sound official. “Be careful and watch each others back.” I meant that. I lead them through the maze of crawl spaces to the lower levels. Our transport was lower on the station so it was not that long of a hump. I can only guess but whoever attacked did so at the top levels because all of the infantry was stationed at the lower levels. I found out later, they attacked the main ring assuming most of the troops would be there but an arrant gas canister was accidentally let loose and it had to be evacuated, no more than two minutes before the attack began.

We came to the end of the line. Ahead of us were the solid waste disposal units. A web of pipes that lead to a large empty chamber where waste is incinerated then dumped into space. I had the men take positions around the complex covering all sides. Then we sat. I was unlucky enough not to have environmentals because I had no armor so I felt naked as a newborn baby. I think that must be the reason Heck sent me down here with the newbies. 

Part 12

The Palto 8 Assault rifle does not fire ordinance. That was a necessary feature once the war became an outer space conflict. It has a front and rear hand-hold and in the middle is what looks like a magazine for ordinance. It is instead, a battery of sorts that powers the static inverter. It fires a static inversion pulse that can tear through our armor at the most powerful setting and sting like hell at the lowest setting. It can also cause paralysis.

The magazine holds enough charge for over 200,000 discharges, at the lowest setting and120 at the highest. We usually have the weapon set at the mid-low range; there are over 35 settings. The lowest setting fires rapid fire of 3,000 discharges per minute. The highest needs 30-40 seconds between discharges to cool the barrel and charge the static inverter. Don’t ask me how it works. I’m not that kind of scientist you know. I can tell you how the infantry as a whole feels about the weapon, but you probably wouldn’t be interested.

The DSRT-grenade is also standard fare for starship use. Frag grenades, or fragment grenades have a tendency to rip holes in ships. The Dihydro-Sonic-Resonance-Triphsophate grenade, gives a 10 meter sonic concussion that causes un-consciousness. Plus, it acts like a microwave. It accelerates the atoms of any living material and causes combustion; like napalm from the inside out. The only problem is the Sungata armor has a tendency to effectively block the effects of the grenades. Sure it knocks them down but they get right back up. With any luck it might knock a piece of armor off and then if you throw a second one it might burn them.

Even though I was in MI, I don’t really know that much about the Sungata. I know the names of some of the more important leaders, military and otherwise. But I, like most, have never really seen one. All Sungata warriors wear what would be considered heart monitors. When their vital signs stop they dissolve. It is a type of mini implosion bomb on the molecular level.

As little as we know about the Sungata we know less about their technology. The armor proves especially effective against our weapons. Their spacecraft however is not. Their craft weapons are very powerful. The most we have gotten off them are their rifles and side arms and we can’t make heads or tails of them.

Part 13

Now I am sure of it, God really does like me. Over the COM link the newbie next to me, PFC Murphy, informed me of the heavy fighting that was taking place above us. All of it was contained to areas above the main ring. I didn’t tell the rest of the youngsters, but I felt we could relax. I turned to some of the guys and broke a cardinal rule. I asked about them. The guys were wound up so tight they were jumping at every movement.

Turns out these guys came through Pendelton together. Seems like a fine group of guys. It appeared that Murphy was the squad leader He set several performance records at camp. The guys really looked up to him. Another guy was a real comedian, name was Casin. He was trying to crack jokes but he was so nervous that he was barely audible. The others laughed nervously at his mumblings because I’m sure he is usually very funny. In the following minutes I meet Cartwright, Nakazuma, Peters, Evans, and Shevchenko. After college they signed up for Officer Candidacy School. Unfortunately, Peters failed the entrance exam. In the service there are no second chances. Peters was sent to Infantry school, the others turned down their commissions to maintain the group. They were as tight as a group of guys could be. Any one of them could be a squad leader or an officer. That just shows you how exceptional Murphy is.

“Excuse me Sgt.” Murphy said

“Go ahead.” I said forgetting that I actually have rank.

“It seems our troops are pushing the invaders back. They are heading back up the station. It also seems there is a hellava fighter battle going on outside. Do you think we should go help?”

“No,” I replied like I had some grand plan, “we should hold our position until discharged from this area.” I could tell most of the guys were relieved that we were not going up. They probably thought I had some amazing sense of duty, but really I think God wanted me down here so I would not get shot at today. A couple of the guys who were itching to get into action were disappointed but they understood my faux reasoning. Now completely comfortable those things were going our way I decided I was going to relax.

Just about then, it became crystal clear God really doesn’t like me after all. It was like the whole world exploded. Actually, it was just the wall where refuse is deposited. Once again the contents of my stomach made a run for the exit. But thankfully I had not eaten much and I could hold it back successfully. The group of men instinctively fell back on my position, which was behind a row of consoles in the middle of the room facing the now disintegrated wall.

“Spread out,” I yelled knowing having everyone on me would only get me shot at more. The group dispersed quickly in other areas that gave them a view of the hole while giving them defoliate. Just as a smattering of weapons fire came from the smoldering area. The shots rang loud because of the great resonance of the area and the fact I was not wearing a helmet. “Get ready, here they come!”

I hate being right, although I was not going out on a limb. It was the Sungata. It was about 40 of them. For the life of me I could not figure out how they got in the incinerator. Then it hit me. They must have been in the back of a refuse ship; a Trojan Horse. I was awestruck. Murphy wasn’t however.

“Fire, fire, fire! Blow their fucking heads off!” As Murphy yelled the squad lit the area up with an impressive area of weapons fire. Then the Sungata returned fire. It was maddening. For some reason, I found myself exposing myself to take shots at the Sungata I guess if I was going to die, I wanted to die standing up. I took aim and let loose. My rifle was pulsing in my arms as my sights were lining up on the silhouettes of the Sungata.

The Sungata were dropping quickly then dissolving. Then it was over. The smoke cleared and I could see the remnants of the fallen Sungata. I yelled to see if anyone was hurt. Not one person was hurt. I thought; God likes to test me. As I raised my black hand, to wave the all clear, I saw a sight appearing down the long, wide shaft that all the garbage from the station and other ships collected. It was….

“A shitload of Sungata troops Sarge.” Murphy said really sounding nervous for once. He was talking to me but he wasn’t taking his eyes off the cloud of men coming up the pathway. The dull gray of their armor made them look like a bank of rolling smoke. I could see a smattering of men carrying side mounted cannons. “OH Shit!” Murphy saw them too.

The cannons are some of the most power-full hand held weapons there are. The fire hardened burning plasma. We were screwed. I knew that we could not make it through this. “Murphy can you raise the company?”

“I’ll try sir.” Moments passed and Murphy informed me of something I already knew. “Sarge, were fucked.”

“HMM, well then here is what we are going to do. Men, no help is coming. We are alone.” I think I sounded like Patton, an old 19^th century General, probably not though. “Here is what I want you to do. Wait, let them get really close.”

“No fucking way.” came a chorus from most of the men.

“Really, I’m serious. Here is why. Take your grenades out and work in teams. Hold one grenade in each hand and press the arming switch. Throw them when they are really close. Now pair up, get low because shit is going to get hot in about 30 seconds. Now let’s do this. Hope to see you on the other side.” I said, knowing there was not a snowball’s chance in hell that I was going to make it. Several hundred people were on this deck. All had armor on, all heavily armed, except me.

I got down, after I made sure that everyone else was low and going to wait like I told them. I leaned low against the console and closed me eyes, prayed and waited for what I hoped would be a swift death. Then all hell broke loose, again. First there was the smattering of rifle fire to try and expose our positions. They were hoping we would stand up so the cannons could open fire. That didn’t last long. They gave up on that quick.

The sounds of the cannons firing and the ripping noise the plasma made as it came at us made a couple of the guys piss there pants. I won’t tell you whom because I don’t want to be embarrassed. I mean I don’t want them to be embarrassed. The blasts started tearing large holes through the consoles and support columns. They knew we had to be behind them so that is where the centered their fire. The blasts of plasma roared past, and when they hit an object it broke it into a million pieces.

The fire got heavier. But judging how long it took from the sound of discharge to the impact they were still too far away for us to do anything but get killed. We were probably going to die anyway but we might as well take a few of them with us. Then we lost a man. His name was Kittle, or Kattle I can’t remember. A blast from the cannon tore through the support beam he was behind. It took his leg, hip, and part of his abdomen with it. It was so loud, I couldn’t hear him scream. He was fairly close to me and he was looking right in my eyes. He had his hand outstretched. I could read his lips he was asking for help. All I could do was watch him die, which took a while. You see, plasma cauterizes the wounds so you die slowly and painfully, assuming it doesn’t blow you to pieces first. I put my head down and continued to pray.

Murphy tried to jump up and go to his fallen comrade but I held him back. It took all my strength to keep him down. Murphy was not exceptionally large, but he was huge compared to me. I think my black hand is stronger than the rest of me, so that probably helped. A discharge from a Sungata rifle clipping his helmet helped persuade him. Of course you know now the Sungata know exactly where we are. It took only a matter of seconds for all of the cannon fire to be directed right at us. The console came apart like paper mache. Murphy caught a glancing hit of plasma that sent his head into the ground. He was out cold. I was jealous; I would have loved to sleep through this.

As the world came ripping apart around me, I decided to accept my fate and die. Then the worse possible thing happened. It seems the damn FNGs gave a shit about what happened to me. Shevchenko started to stand behind his column as if he were going to make a run for us. I could not tell him to stop since I did not have a helmet to communicate with. So I did what I could. I shot at him. I shot at the next two sonsabitches who stood up too. I was trying to make it clear that they should not come after us.

They were determined though. I did not want all of them to die trying to save me, after all I am a worthless SOB, and they are all better men than I am. I asked myself, what would Heck do? I didn’t like the answer I came up with. I threw Murphy over my shoulders and ran for it, right after the next succession of plasma fire. This coincidently took out the rest of the cover we had left. I never told anyone this but I used Murphy as a shield, he did have armor on after all. Rifle shots hit him but I could still feel it. They stung like a bastard.

I came down with a crash as I dove behind a column. As I flew through the air, a plasma blast split the uprights sort-of-speaking. It severely burnt my inner thighs. The bad news was that the cannons were now zeroed in on my new position and there were now four guys behind one column. Sure, one was dead but it still was a bad spot. The good news is the Sungata charged. They were right on top of us, if you can call that good news. The squad recognized the moment and let lose nearly 30 grenades less than 20 meters from us.

I grabbed the helmet off the dead solder and put it on as the first concussions hit. I know, it sucks to take stuff off dead guys but it saved my hearing. The thud, thud, thud, of the grenades, was shaking my bones to the root. Pieces of Sungata were flying everywhere. It was so bright my blast shield barely protected my eyes. My already burnt skin started to bubble from the heat. The cheers in my helmet earpiece were near deafening. The lads were excited to be fighting back. Unfortunately a couple got too excited and charged. They were mowed down within four feet of cover. Cut into ribbons would be the most appropriate simile.

“Open fire!” I yelled over the COM link. And they did by God. Murphy regained consciousness. He did not ask questions or wait for an order. He grabbed a rifle and dove into the ruins of the console in the middle of the room. And he lit that room up. I started to fire on the Sungata with the less than accurate firing pattern of my own. The Sungata started moving up the sides and were pressing our position. I ran for the door. It was fused shut. I could see that the men were wondering what I was doing. Since the door was already fused I gave it a few shots out of frustration.

“They get no further than this,” one of the men yelled through his mike, “good thinking Sarge.” The cheers and at-a-boys in my earpiece let me know something was funny. They thought I was keeping the Sungata out of the rest of the Station. I saved face, the coward that I am. I was also being shot at like crazy I dove behind a piece of console next to Murphy, and opened fire. The Sungata were pushing up hard. I am not sure how but a group of us had formed in the middle around Murphy and me.

As sick as it sounds, we built a barrier of dead bodies and body parts to protect us. Some were our own men and some was the Sungata. Turns out arms and legs don’t dissolve unless they are attached to the body. The guys left were Cartwright, Nakazuma, Peters, Evans, and Shevchenko. Shevchenko was on his knees with two riffles in his hands firing like a mad man. All of a sudden a Sungata warrior came from no where and pointed a cannon less than 3 meters away and pulled the trigger. Peters jumped up and took the blast as Nakazuma mowed the Sungata down. The only reason Peters was the one to take the blast was he was the first to see it, anyone of that group would have done the same. I, however, am the reluctant warrior. I know little to nothing of the guts displayed by Peters. And I don’t mean the stuff that landed on me.

I don’t know exactly how long we were fighting but it must have been a while because I ran out of charge in my second weapon as did a couple of others. “Men, we are going down. So here is what I propose. First who has charge left?”

“I do sir,” replied Cartwright.

“Me too sir,” added Nakazuma.

“Ok, here is what I propose. The rest of us get our blades out and fix them to our rifles. Nakazuma, Cartwright will provide cover fire. The rest of us will charge. Do as much damage as possible before you die.” I could not believe the words that were coming out of my mouth. “You guys ready?” I added with enthusiasm, like I was having a good time. I got a lot of open-mouthed nods and Murphy added,

“Fuckin A!!!”

That kind of said it all. On the count of three we went. To our surprise the wall behind us blew open and knocked us on our asses. The first thing I saw was Heck; followed by the rest of Bravo Group. They ran right over the top of us. Several men went down but the Sungata started to pull back. This all happened while the rest of the squad lay on the floor exhausted. I watched the battle progress. Heck was amazing. He had a large blade attached to his rifle. He was hitting shooting and slashing faster and more deliberate than anything I had ever seen. He was in fact a killing machine. I was mesmerized; that is I was until I passed out from exhaustion.

Part 14

Funny thing being a coward, it is pure hell sometimes. I keep thinking of that old saying. A brave man dies once, but a coward dies a thousand deaths or something like that. I often thought it would be easier if I were brave like Murphy or Henderson. What’s worse is now I’m getting accolades from the bravery of other men. When I suggested we charge the Sungata it was only because I was too frightened to try and hold our position. I was ready to die.

Fear of death is not the only fear. A worse one is fear of life. I fall into that category. While I was in intelligence school I fell for a very powerful woman. I lacked the sufficient courage to approach her. You see as a book-worm my life revolved around theories and conjecture; fantasies for the intellectual mind. I spent hours trying to perfect an interactive program while in Intel school that would allow me interaction with this woman. I worked on it on my private computer in my quarters. It was not hooked up to a network or any other transmitting substance. So, I felt it was safe to experiment. I used a data base of personnel to gather the required info on my secret love; exact name, height, weight, personality and physiological tests. It was perfect.

It was like she was there with me. It was great until one day she was there with me; waiting to return to my quarters. It seems she was curious as to why I was getting her personnel information. So she scanned my computer (I did not know they could do that. Just point a device at a room and read all info on any computer in that room.). When I got there she was having a conversation with herself.

Part 15

When Heck woke me in the promenade, I felt like hell. He picked me up and walked me over to a table. The table was a couple of feet high with newly available armor. I picked through it as Heck waited. I put the gear on, careful to remove any spare body parts I found. Then Heck spoke, “Hell of a thing that happened down there”. He said looking me square in the eyes. “Most men wouldn’t have lasted five seconds against a force of that size. You guys held them off for a better part of an hour. We only came down there after one of our battle cursers reported seeing a transport ship docked in the refuse area. I thought for sure you guys were done.”

“We were lucky I guess,” I said shrugging my shoulders knowing I tried my best to get killed.

“Well when you are finished here meet me on the main ring.” Heck said and walked away.

After I was fully dressed, I stammered into the main ring where half the brass in this part of the sector was collected, along with my surviving comrades of the garbage bin fight. Among the brass were Admiral Brooks, head of the Fleet. General Pickett, head of Military Insurrections and Admiral Delancy head of Military Intelligence. It had the feel of a ceremony. Then Admiral Brooks spoke.

“Come in”, he said pointing at me, “Now that we are all here we can begin, General Picket.” he said prompting the General to the makeshift podium.

General Pickett addressed the modicum of 30 or so people on the deck here to witness what was going to happen. “We are here to honor these brave men, whose courage under fire probably not only saved this station but this whole quadrant. Would privates Cartwright, Nakazuma, Evans, Shevchenko, PFC Murphy and Sergeant Boom is it?” The crowd chuckled at the fact he used my nickname. I really felt that if I had anything in my stomach it not only would have left through the closest orifice, but ran down the hall. It was an awards ceremony. Thousands have died in this war, all braver than me. None got awards and too many to pass out. That’s why we were getting citations and it made me feel all the worse.

Pickett continued, “These men are all receiving the Crescent Moon for bravery under fire.” The crowd applauded as they passed out the medals. I didn’t feel so bad now it was the least prestigious of the possible awards. He continued “Pvt. Peters receives posthumously the silver dagger.” The crowed roared. That was very prestigious. You pretty much have to die to get that, or the Union star or the Alliance Cross. Only twelve Alliance Crosses have been given out in its 90 year plus history. All have been dead men. “And finally to Sgt. Boom for his self -sacrifice, sealing the doors so the Sungata could not gain entrance to the station for saving the life of PFC Murphy despite heavy gunfire and leading the charge in hand to hand combat against the heavy cannons of the Sungata…”

All I could think about at this point was, Shit!

“…The Alliance Cross and promotion to Master Sergeant” with that the Brass stood and alluded applauded; as if there were no tomorrow. The crowed roared, as did the whole station. It seems they were broadcasting over the COM link so everyone could hear it. I wanted to die. Did you know embarrassment hurts more than being shot? It doesn’t hurt more than loosing your hand but once you throw in that large amount of shame, well, I’d rather they cut my right hand off.

To anyone who says dishonesty and cowardice will get you nowhere, well, now you know different. Not that I was happy about it. I would rather be at home reveling in anonymity.

Bravo Group was a party. The men cheered and yelled and drank. Some of the Henderson esque women from Ocean Group came down for some action. And after all the drinking they were getting some too. Off in the corner I saw what was left of my squad drinking quietly. I decided to join them being I did not much feel like partying. “Why aren’t you guys enjoying the party?” I asked with a slightly sarcastic tone.

“Well Sarge,” Murphy chimed up, “We don’t feel like partying, Peters died and we are having a drink to him.” Murphy motioned me to sit down while Shevchenko handed me a goblet of booze.

“To Peters,” I said while raising a glass and the others followed. We drank the rest of the night in silence.

Part 16

The Chahorte are a very reclusive race. Their weapons are far superior to anything either side has. Their technologies are beyond anything we have. They come from a system where the gravity is nearly three times that of the Earth. And from what I know of them they despise war and the Sungata and they are not too fond of us. They are a race of supreme reason and great passion. They do not tolerate outside influences. They would make great allies to the Union or the Alliance. Although there are other races helping the Union of Earth that make up the Alliance; they have no power. Not even bodies to throw into the fray. The Chahorte however could put an end to the incessant fighting. With their weapons we could easily turn the tide. Throw in their ships and manpower; the war would be over in a matter of days.

That is if they wanted anything to do with the war, the war that has engulfed this part of the galaxy. Once they were a conquering race but found other races were poisoning their purity; so all other races were not allowed to become a part of the empire. All people of impure blood were executed. Since no diplomatic channels could be opened we tried spies. All were never heard from. After a second round of agents were sent, our massive station SB-105 was destroyed in a matter of seconds by a lone Chahorte fighter not a cruiser or destroyer but a fighter. So we never tried to make contact again. That is until after SP-313.

Part 17

That was our next stop after we re-supplied at the base and got a fresh batch of newbies. We were off. It was a four-day trip even using our sub space gates. Henderson became my new best friend. At least he thought so. On the way out of port Heck gave me a new name.

“Listen Up. At the prompting of several guys we have decided that Boom is not a name befitting the only living Alliance Cross winner, from now on you are Balls. Gentlemen, introducing Master Sgt. Balls.” The announcement was cheered and applauded. I was actually happy to drop the moniker of Boom. Even though I felt I did not deserve my new one. Murphy became like a cult leader among the newbies. They were on his every move. Kinda like the way Henderson was on me. The first day as Balls was rather pleasant, but then it happened.

A rumor spread throughout the transport that a hybrid was on board. The term hybrid was the slang used to describe genetically enhanced humans. Even though the human race long ago adopted all kinds of technologies the Earth held on to the thought of Genetic engineering as a sin. And that any hybrids were not really human. When a few have popped up they were killed. And MI went into a mass investigation to find out where they came from. Although the average person would not find out the culprits, as an ex MI’er myself, I knew that some of the higher ups that the Brazeen were helping people engineer new humans.

Theses people who deal with the Brazeen are considered traitors and executed. Real traitors are rare. Most of the species we come into contact with consider us like rats. We move to an area and begin populating ourselves right out of it. It used to be strictly a territorial war. The Sungata wanted Earth. The only reason races like the Luntare, Tolouo and about 12 other minor races joined the fight is because they view us as parasites.

So the thought of a hybrid on board sent the men into a panic. Henderson seemed to lead the charge. He spit out vile insults to all the newbies as he lifted them in search for the hybrid. You must remember, most of the infantry is uneducated so emotions ruled their thinking. I had no such fear of a hybrid. I knew that they were human only different. The others though believed that once your DNA was changed you were not even worthy of the Sungata. In my relatively short time as an infantry as I had spent, I noticed Henderson fly off the handle into one of these blood-thirsty tirades more than once.

Usually, within moments, Heck would appear and stop him.

As buddy-buddy as we had become, I dared not get in the way of Henderson on a rampage. Even more so, since it involved hybrids. Stand in the way of him and his now growing posse and you would either be accused of loving hybrids or being one. Even so, I was really surprised when Heck did not stand against Henderson. In fact, he left the bay altogether.

Henderson found his target. He was a newbie named Karsen. He was amazing looking 6’4’’ all muscle blonde hair blue eyes. It was easy to think he was genetically engineered. My thinking was if he were, the last place you would find him was infantry. They would probably make you a lot smarter and put you in a research lab someplace.

“I think I found ‘em,” Henderson snarled, without unclenching his teeth. “You thought you could sneak in with real men, well I ain’t gona let that happen.” Henderson spit at Karsen. He seemed to be enjoying this. Then something unexpected happened. Karsen nailed Henderson in the head. Then he picked him up over his head and threw him into a steel crate.

Henderson tried to stager to his feet but Karsen was on him. He pummeled him with his fists and threw him like a rag doll. Henderson easily outsized him but Karsen was young, strong and fast. It was amazing. I couldn’t help but think what a great asset he was going to be in battle. Henderson started his comeback by just picking Karsen up and throwing him halfway across the bay. A split second later Karsen was back on him. They stood in the middle of the bay, trading blows for what seemed to be an eternity. Then the crowd pulled them apart.

“You see,” Henderson belly ached, “he has to be a stinking hybrid. No one his size could try and manhandle me like that, unless he was a hybrid.”

“Bull shit”, Karsen objected, “I’m no more a hybrid than any of you”

“So why did ya’ attack me like that?”

“Cause your breath stinks.”

Just then someone from the crowd began to offer up the suggestion we send him over to the Med Bay to get tested, but it was too late Karsen was on the floor, with Henderson’s blade in his gullet. “You stinking hybrid,” Henderson grumbled as half the crowd looked in stunned silence and half smiled in approval. Henderson turned to walk away and just as sudden as his dagger found its way into Karsen’s stomach the blade was returned to its owner, via Karsen inserting it in his shoulder. He stood with what little strength he had lunged then fell down dead.

It really was an odd sight, Karsen and Henderson laying side bye side on hospital gurneys. Laughing and joking about the fracas they just participated in. I don’t know if I will ever understand the mentality of these men of arms. One minute they display the noblest qualities of man, self-sacrifice, bravery and courage; the next, the fear and bigotry to drive a man to kill another with little provocation. But here they lay civil as two old birds on a wire. Then you have me; I neither have the courage of these men or the blind ignorance that would want me to condemn a person or race on superficial data. I would never dare say courage is a byproduct of ignorance, but it does take a severe disregard of the facts to have courage under fire.

Part 18

Due to the struggle of two members of Bravo group and the fact we needed everyone we could get; our departure of SB-299 was delayed. I decided to take a stroll on the now empty promenade deck of SB-299. I found the emptiness to be comforting. At times you forget how beautiful space actually is. So, I took advantage of the time alone and watched these stars wink at me as the transports left the station. The only ships left were the Bravo transport and the TDA Manalo. I assume they are still looking for a new Captain.

“There you are Boom; I have been looking all over for you”

The voice from behind me startled me somewhat, it seemed failure but when I turned to look at the face the voice came from I honestly did not remember or recognize the person.

“I’ m sorry have we met?” I said.

“Boom it’s me Capt. Julius”.

I took a long hard look at the man before me and it did not resemble the man I had meet days before. Because I am not regular military, and a bookworm, I did not immediately notice the rank insignia on his shoulder and the nameplate. “Sorry Marcus I didn’t recognize you.”

“It’s ok. I must look terrible.” Marcus said, “That’s what I love about you Boom; you are not straight laced Infantry. You have never saluted or called me by rank.”

“Sorry about that sir, And by the way my moniker has changed now. I’m known as Balls, as crass as that sounds” I said.

“Yes, I heard about your exploits. That brings me to why I searched you out. Reggie died and I need a new Security Officer. I am going to have you transferred to the Manalo and promoted to Ensign.”

I could not believe my luck; the briefing I received before we were to depart was that Bravo was to go to TDA SP-313 on the Luntare Border; a hot area, very hot. We were to take control of a frontier post there and wait for relief from Ocean Group. We were almost certain to be attacked. It was a daily occurrence. The base had to be held. It was a major jumping off point for the Fleet to attack targets in the Sungata Space. I was no longer in charge of the ordinance but I am sure my responsibilities would be just as detrimental to my health. But here I was about to get a rather safe job on a Fleet destroyer. I was going to enjoy telling Heck that I was no longer going to be a transport monkey.

“First you have to report to your duty post on SP-313 and when the Manalo is refit, after the damage we took during the invasion, we will come pick you up on our way to a raid in Luntare 8.”

My everlasting battle with the contents of my stomach took a turn for the worse. It’s like the roller coaster sims I tried back in St. Louis. One minute my stomach was in my throat the next lodged somewhere near my lower intestine. Whatever the case, it was fighting to get out.

“Oh, I see. Well, I guess I’ll see you on SP-313 (yeah like I was going to make it. My luck had been pushed as far as I think luck can be pushed before it snaps back in your face.)

“Right on Balls, or should I say Ensign Balls. Remember this is just between us until I pick you up. Until then, you are still a Master Sgt.” Seaser said, oblivious to the torture he had just put me through.

Meanwhile, I made my way back to the transport in time to be greeted by my comrade in arms who were raring to go. And we went. The trip was un-eventful, just drunken brawls and gambling. Surprisingly enough everyone was excited about the new mission. I can never understand these men. Maybe I should have majored in Physiology instead of Sociology; although my quest to anomie’s in New York to study a group never went this well. I was totally immersed in a group I would normally never have had a chance to incorporate had I tried to do it on purpose. Most of these men didn’t know my real name, or how I got here.

“Balls, come here.” Heck called me to the observation deck. “So Sgt, or should I say Ensign?”

“How did you know?” I asked stunned by the question although I was not really surprised upon reflection, because I doubt very much happened that Heck did not know about.

“Balls, look out there what do you see?”

I peered out the observation window and gazed at the same stars I looked at back on the station; they were beautiful then and now they never looked more like a prison. “A vacuum that is doomed to consume me and everyone else involved with this war.”

“You’re probably right, but there is opportunity for men, Balls. You for instance, when I first saw you, I figured you wouldn’t make it to the head let alone the first assignment. But here you are promoted three times and Received the Union Cross. It’s a testament to good fortune. I just wanted you to know the men look up to you and as hard as it will be on them to see you go I am not going to stand in the way of your transfer. Even though I could easily have it stopped, even though the great Capt. Seaser is behind it.”

“I figured you have some pull around here” I said.

“You’re right,” Heck said “I never could figure what you were doing here anyway. You have a strange background. I looked into it. Mostly sealed and even I couldn’t get clearance which probably means you were in Cartihagnia.” Heck looked right into my eyes waiting for me to blink and give away some info he suspected I had.

“Well I was in an experimental program for social scientist but when that was done they threw me into Infantry. I was not pleased. “

“I see,” Heck said, not pleased with my answer but it seemed he believed what I said. “Well that makes sense you always struck me more as a scientist rather than a soldier.”

“Thank you Heck, I won’t let you down.” I don’t know what I meant by that but I felt as if I needed to say something. I found out that before; not opening your mouth can cause great problems.

Part 19

I said before I was kicked out of MI because of my lack of training, after my previous experience in intelligence. Well that is not true. You probably guessed that the most sophisticated intelligence agency in the quadrant didn’t know all there was to know about me. Other things went on to facilitate my departure and ceremonial dump in infantry. After months of doing research models on the various races in the war and how their economies and political and sociological differences melded together, I had an encounter with Capt. Delancy. She found that some of my models did not meet her specifications in technological background. That was not my department. She felt it needed to be incorporated, since several species were so intertwined with their technologies it was breed into their culture. I understood her point but I was ill equipped.

It was a complicated environment at MI. The commanders were always looking for ways to get promoted, finding more efficient ways of doing things; usually involving stepping on underlings and taking credit for their work. This, ironically, just wound up making things more complicated in the long run. The departments were so compartmentalized that I doubt even the Chancellor of Intel even knew what was going on. For months I did not know which race I was studying.

Delancy took my rejected models to the Intelligence council and was commended and decorated for providing valuable data for a successful mission. True, she did add minute technical info, but the data was all my own. I did not know this until much later. I just kept dispersing info to her, which she made her own. Delancy was a solid woman, but she was all women. Jaw length black hair, brown, almond shaped eyes, not a large bosom but I was never a breast man anyway. Unlike other females in the service, she tended to always wear a long hemmed skirt. All black of course; a standard TDA MI uniform requisite. She always had an aroma of feminine perfume. She was trained in many forms of hand to hand anti-personal combat training, and her lean muscles shown through her blouse as she moved and her calves were rigid steal plates that demanded attention. She had mine.

Part 20

Once we were on SP-313 I found basically what I was expecting. A large multi-level fortress with massive shielding anti-aircraft particle cannons. A carbonate-cased blast wall surrounded the perimeter. It had manual multi-port, phase-induction dual cannons. It was a very impressive structure overall. There was plenty of battle damage that was actively being repaired. I was not sure what I was going to do here but I was hoping that it would be a calm environment until I could find my way into my new vocation.

There was a general meeting in the courtyard. Battle group assignments were being handed out. General Penington was at a podium in the middle of Bravo Group. Squad by squad he handed out detail duties. Then mine came. “Squad Two, you have probably the most important task of manning the perimeter guns. (‘Oh, bugger me’)

The view from the wall was impressive SP-313 was desolate mountains ranges looking into a canyon that had a purplish fog rolling out of it. Beautiful. While I was lost in my thoughts, I completely missed the ordinance Sgt’s rundown on the nomenclature of the cannon I was to operate. I mean how hard could it be? There was a release mechanism that I assumed controlled the breach load, two hand triggers and foot pedals that I assumed controlled the pitch and yaw of the gun. It was much too large to handle just by muscle alone even for a large man like Henderson.

The set up was a two-man gunner’s port indentation every 20 meters on the blast wall. The wall itself was 2 meters thick at the base and tapered to 10 centimeters at the top where I was. I felt that it should have been thicker the moment I saw it. I did not care that the composite material was stronger than titanium. This wall was made of carbonate, magnesium and uranium. The metal was dubbed carbinum. I never felt comfortable behind a wall that was partially made of chalk the fusing process makes the wall impervious to everything except the most formidable ordinance. Plus the uranium made the wall glow with a soft blue hue. It really was a breath taking sight. Clean strong lines just screamed strength.

I should have been supremely confidant, except one fact that did not escape me. The only reasonable way to breach the fortress is over the wall, where I was. The fortress had an abundance of anti-aircraft guns and missiles. No reasonable force could possibly want to try to breach the wall at its base. So if they came by land, over me was the only way to go. In my gunner platform was Sgt. John McGinnis. He got promoted at SB-299 also. We spent considerable time together and I recall that McGinnis just didn’t like me all that much. As I looked over my cannon, McGinnis took to his and began to work it over to check the operation. I tried to look at him to see how to operate the cannon correctly. He moved to quickly for me to take in what he was doing.

Out of no where all the cannon’s started firing at target drones that were being fired from above us. I saw all of the men snap to and begin firing. I took to my cannon, slipped my hands into the resinous where the triggers were and tried to fire, nothing. I grasped the clutching release latch to prep the gun to fire and tried again, nothing. I jerked and pulled and squeezed and still nothing happened. Then the impromptu drill was over before I really new it began.

McGinnis unlatched himself form his cannon turned to me and said sarcastically “Balls, put on your helmet the COM tower is trying to reach you to find out why you failed to fire a shot.”

I put on my helmet and the COM tower was vigorously calling “Gunner 51, come in Gunner 51, can you respond, over?”

“51 here tower, over”

“Gunner 51 did you have a malfunction? Why didn’t you fire?”

I saw my opportunity “Yes, I had a failure please send a repair team, promptly.” Yes, the repair team would be the only ones to know I really didn’t know how to use this thing.

“If you didn’t know how to use it, you could’ve just asked me. I mean, if you fail, it’s my ass. Damn, man I thought you were a Gunner’s Mate at one point.” McGinnis said to me with scorn in his voice. “You better get your shit straight; I don’t want you to fuck up like you did at SB-299. Yes, that’s right, I know all about what really happened. The brass needed a hero who would keep his mouth shut and you’re it. If you were any good, do you think Heck would let you leave?”

“I hadn’t thought about it really. Regardless, I don’t care what you know or you think you know. I’m getting out of here and I am going to make it through my service. I am not a good soldier but I will not leave you out to dry.” I was not sure that I believed the words I was saying and I could tell McGinnis didn’t buy it either. One thing I didn’t pick up on at the time was how he knew what really happened. I wish I would’ve thought about it.

As I sat and admired the view from my platform, after the repair crew showed me exactly how the gun worked, I couldn’t help think of home. Herman does not have vistas like these but the rolling hills and the bluffs over looking the Missouri River could take your breath away, just like these multi-colored mountains and purple-grey and blue fogs that rolled out of the canyons. When I was a boy I would neglect my studies watching the landscape. I never got tired of sitting on the banks of the Missouri, even though it really kinda’ smelled. The attraction was the sound of the water rolling past and the birds and wildlife rustling by. It was a distraction away from the mundane efforts of my father berating me with equations and scientific formulas meant to spark my intellect.

True to my existence this is where I became fascinated with the human condition. I wondered how any one could be fighting a war when there was so much beauty around to appreciate. I thought, did the Sungata not have a place such as this to calm them down? Is that why they are trying to take Earth from us? I loved the order of nature; the way nature eliminates instead of coddling. Small fish get eaten by large fish. Weak fish, who don’t contribute to their own survival, get swallowed up. There was a time before the wars that humans were very overpopulated and the people gravitated towards a communal society. They were trying to even out the playing field, so everyone could have a certain amount of valuables so no one would be left out. The systems broke down. The more the government tried to even out the funds the less people worked for the good of mankind.

So the social systems imploded. It sounds coarse but the world needed to have the strong survive. In some places it did. What you would call the less than reputable nations were operating on less than socialist and not capitalist either. Wealth increased, as did their banned technologies. Those actions putt the more peaceful (at least from the outside) nations at a disadvantage. History does repeat itself.

Part 21

Days and days of staring at the mountains would wear on most of the men here, but not me. I was more than happy to go to my gunner’s post day after day and clean my cannon and only test fire it. McGinnis never bothered me much, besides we all knew that if an attack came, it would be from above. Trying to hit the walls in a direct assault would be suicide. Even I could tell that the gun emplacements were numerous and the walls were virtually impregnable. Besides the Manalo would be here any day and I would be gone.

Then it started. The Luntare raiders started strafing the complex early one morning while I was in quarters. They came from the mountain Pass. They made their strafing run then escaped into the canyon on the opposite side of the complex. That is, if any of the raiders made it that far. The raiders were lightly armored so they could keep up speed. They had very powerful cannon that could only fire a few shots. It was a disposable craft; keeping with the theme of the Luntare. They seemed to treat everything as disposable.

The Luntare breed slower than Earthlings, but just barely. They do have an advantage in numbers. They are an ancient race and their people populate several systems, or should I say over populate. They are human-like; in they are mammals, bipedal and look a lot like us. The harsh conditions of their home world developed a hard people. They are A-sexual which means they all can reproduce. They look like what we would call males, with breasts, but only after they have children. The bodies of the Luntare are mostly covered in medium-length, stringy hair. They have large K-9 teeth with hardly any grinding teeth being they are mostly meat eaters. Their hands are similar to ours, except another appendage at the wrist that can run the length of the hand. They are especially hard to kill because of their redundant organs; two hearts, four lungs, kidneys, and intestines, two stomachs and nervous systems. If something gets damaged, to a reasonable extent, the other system takes over while the other organ repairs itself. They also have superior hearing and vision. But what they lack is exceptional intellect. Oh there are some extremely smart Luntare but they have to overcome their emotional and violent tendencies which have limited their development.

My shift came up. Usually they won’t make a shift change during an attack; they just have men take the place of the fallen. But no raiders had been seen in an hour so they went ahead and made the switch. I was still confidant, because the raiders are targeting mainly the anti-aircraft emplacements. This meant two things. One, there was an attack coming soon. Two, it had to be before the Manalo arrived, because it was a battle cruiser. There are no known Luntare ships that could hope to take it out, even if there was an entire fleet of Luntare cruisers. They just didn’t have the fire-power; not that they wouldn’t try.

Oh well, I had a better than average chance of surviving an aerial attack. The Raiders wouldn’t waist their time with us because we couldn’t shoot that high. Our guns were mainly for ground defense. We had fighters as well but they would never launch them because then our anti-aircraft guns would be useless. Then it happened. McGinnis was woofing down a food ration. I could not touch them. It turned my stomach. I usually took nutrition supplements. That’s all you really need. Humans don’t need to eat anymore. We could just take a few pills plus a nutrition shake or two; I also still had to drink plenty of water. But some hold on to the want or need to eat. Not me, I’d rather just swallow a pill than eat the grime, so called food, out of those polyurethane pouches. My superiors commented that I was very efficient not wanting to take the time to eat, whatever. I just wanted to get outside and enjoy the view. Unfortunately, taking the pills didn’t preclude the nausea I found so frequently in my gut.

My very first attack, the fighters came so fast, that even if I was ready, wouldn’t have been able to ready my cannon in time to fire. They skimmed right over head and let loose their payload at the building. The noise of them took your breath away, as they passed overhead. Then the concussion of the cannon rattled your bones. It was so loud there is no way to describe it. As soon as a raider appeared, all applicable cannons started firing. I think, the first time I heard it, I wet myself. The anti- aircraft missiles spewed over head exploding and covering us in a film of some sort. And just like that it was over.

I wish I could express how much the sight of this awed me. But even more so, the attacks came faster and faster with less time between them. The tower let us know they were expecting a major push any time. So we took our positions at our cannons instead of under cover just besides them. I placed my hands in the ports and grasped the hand-hold and placed my fingers in the trigger mechanisms. I locked my feet in position and the back support came up; I was ready. Just then, all hell broke loose. The main wall came under attack. The raiders were targeting the gunner positions. Mine was hit with a direct blast and the wall held. I immediately had more confidence in the wall than before. I could feel the heat when the shot hit but we were all here. They kept coming low and fast and lots of them. Hit after hit the walls rumbled. The gunners noticed that the anti- aircraft cannons weren’t firing. Missiles were still coming out but those didn’t fire as fast as the guns. Then McGinnis came over the intercom. “Bloody hell!”

Then I saw it too “they are too low the guns can’t hit ’em” A voice came over the COM.

“Open up boys we got to try and make’em fly high!” another voice said.

Just then all thee guns opened up. I just followed what everyone else was doing; aiming low, firing, then bringing the fire stream up. The rapid rate of fire made the shots ineffective, if they did hit the raiders, which was rare. The occasional missile was able to bring them down, but for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why they were flying so low and attacking the gun ports. This was not their first attack of this base. Even though the wall was a recent upgrade they had to know by now this attack would be futile.

Firing the cannon like this took a few moments to get used to. Each movement of my hand or foot would move the gun. I had no real control. Up, down, side to side at random. The recoil was so jarring, if the back support wasn’t there, I would be flung backwards off the wall. I could not get my bearings long enough to make an accurate shot. The other gunners were calling out shots to take and I could not keep track of anything not even the tower, which started yelling something with the override.

“Oh, Hell” I said to myself. I saw what all the chatter was about. An army was coming; a big one. The shouts were orders to strengthen our particle beams and direct fire on the approaching army. They got dangerously close due to thee raiders distracting our gun emplacements. The raiders turned their attention to the complex once again; only after they saw the first of our fighters in the air. As we turned our fire toward the army bearing down on us, the doors of the Complex whooshed open and a sea of humanity poured out. All the available infantry filled the catwalk and took aim.

The oncoming Luntare Army was elbow to elbow and as deep as the eye could see. There were armored vehicles, tanks, and right in the middle was the biggest damn gun I had ever seen. It was the size of a personnel carrier or a large freighter. It stopped moving forward and it started glowing around the platform, which it sat. A moment later the glow moved up the barrel.

We opened up fire on it as a giant wave of Luntare surged forward toward the wall. As I fired, I found out what everyone else just found out. The gun was barely a meter out of range. Another thing the raiders were determining, during their strafing runs. I told you they were smart. Thusly they continued, without resistance. Only now the targets were ample, unlike me and the rest of the gunners, who had protection from the blast wall and some electrode shielding, the infantry on the catwalks were in the open. Our fighters had not come in force yet and our guys were being blown to purgatory.

The only thing I could do in my feeble moment of banality was to open fire on the swarm of growling beasts below. I could not figure out how to adjust the power ratio on the cannon so I just opened fire. The tower called over and over to get me to change power settings. The others were firing intense blast shots killing five to six Luntare at a time. I however could barely pick one off at a time. The explosions over head didn’t even garner my attention. Our fighters finally swarmed in and blew the shit out of the Raiders.

Cheers filled the COM system. I switched channels so I could hear what the pilots were calling out to each other. They were moving into an attack pattern to go after the big gun.

“Alpha group go to pattern Theta, Charlie group divert the attention of the anti-air craft guns on the armored vehicles. Shock group drop the bombs on any mechanized weaponry you see and Strike group will take out the gun.” With the final words from the Commander, all the fighters swarmed in as if from nowhere and began to fire. I slowed my fire so I could watch. They moved with precision and grace one would associate with a ballet dancer; a beautiful dance of death. I could almost hear Mozart in the air. The blast plumed upward in colorful arcs and glowed in the smoke filled skies. Sparks filled the air like fire-flies over the Missouri River. Only blood was the fluid de-juor that filled the river that came out of the canyon.

Only the bodies’ kept coming, an endless stream was flowing; pieces of people shattering and evaporating like a half-sipped cup of water. Finally the lead fighters circled the gun emplacement and began peppering in with plasma cannon fire. Funny thing though, the blasts ricocheted off an unseen barrier; a shield of sorts. Come to find out, the shield served two purposes; one, to protect it from incoming fire and two to protect the surrounding troops from the static discharge when it eventually fired. This gun came off a Cosmos class Sungata war ship. They were used mainly for planetary assault.

Finally, the Luntare troops opened fire. Their fire was immediately returned by our own fire. It all was a blur of plasma fire, photon discharges and a dazzling display of lavers. It was a shower of energy falling from the highest reaches of the wall pouring down on the mass of life below. This was meat with a fountain spray of destruction aimed at the heavens. It was hard to pick a target in the volley. All I could see was energy. Blasts from cannons to their tanks occasionally sub-sided the broadside, long enough for the Lads to take cover. After the concussion the firing would continue.

I fired recklessly into the Luntare, hoping I would hit something. A sudden explosion behind me drew my attention to the fact that a Sungata Bomber Fleet was overhead escorted by Luntare fighters. Our fighters ended their strafing runs and proceeded to attack the bomber fleet. It was a small fleet, but it was accurate enough to weaken our shield generator and damage some anti-aircraft emplacements.

As I looked overhead, a loud buzzing noise came from the charging Luntare. Then there was a loud whoosh.

Part 22

I woke up in the med bay of a hospital ship. I staggered to my feet dressed head to toe in a compression body wrap. I looked in the reflection in the mirror and I couldn’t see any part of me except my eyes. The body suit is silky smooth and wraps the skin tight like a Lycra material. I sat in the chair in my space of the hospital ward and picked up a data pad hoping to catch some news on the war or Earth. I didn’t try to examine the data concerning my condition. I knew all I needed to know. First, this suit was used for burns. More specifically radiation burns. Second, I was alive. I didn’t need to know anything else.

As I read the data pad, which was two months old, I just felt calm and happy. A thought came to mind of how much I would really like a cup of tea right about now. The fact the data pad was only two months old was nice usually our more recent data streams were at least four months behind. A stern looking doctor came down the ward hall. Then it struck me the ward was empty except for me. The clicking of the doctors heals echoed through the hall. With each click I felt a more ominous sense of the emptiness of the room. Click, click, click. “Well I am glad to see you are up and around.” the doctor said, without looking at me and checking my vitals on a wall mounted panel. “We thought you may never recover, but it looks good.”

“Pardon me, but I don’t suppose that my injuries were horrific enough that I warrant a trip home?”

The doctor finally looked at me. Bit the side of his cheek and said, “Even if the wounds were bad enough, I don’t think they would let you go home any time soon. Say, what is your real name; all I have to go by is Balls? That is what everyone has been calling you since you came in. Your Id badge was incinerated with the rest of your armor in the blast. I mean the staff has been walking around for six months calling you Balls; if you can believe the absurdity of that? I would just like to be able to tell them who you are.”

“It would be a pleasure to introduce myself, there has been little interest shown in me personally since I was thrust into Infantry. In fact, it would be a pleasure to introduce myself to another educated man and perhaps have some intelligent discourse for once. Well, without further procrastination, my name is… Did you say six months?”

“Well yes, you were in a coma for six months, normally we can wake coma patients right away but since you were so contaminated when you came in we could not use traditional implements.”

Right then a welcome sight popped up from behind the curtain adjacent to my bed. It was Heck. “Hey there Balls; how you feeling?”

“I suppose I am OK, Just had a refreshing nap apparently.”

“Well good, we need you back on the lines as soon as possible. Doc, could you excuse us we have classified information to discuss?”

“Well, yes, but I will need to come back shortly to remove the bandages.” With that the doctor left and Hecks’ gaze fixated directly on my mostly covered face.

“Listen Balls, the brass are going to want to get you back to SP-313 as soon as possible. They want to hold an Alliance Wide Video ceremony to honor the victory at SP-313”

“So we won?” I inquired “because it didn’t look so good last I can remember”

“They said you might have some memory lapse. You really don’t remember?” Heck asked. I just shook my head knowing, regardless of what happened, I wouldn’t like what he was about to tell me. “Damn kid, I don’t know if I want you to get overwhelmed but here we go. The push on the base was bigger than could have ever been expected. The Luntare just started climbing up there own dead bodies to breach the wall. That’s when that big damn gun fired right at your position. It took out a big portion of the blast wall. It held up better than I thought it would. McGinnis bought it then, but you held your ground. You’re probably going to get another medal…”

“Not another Union Star?” I said with dread. I did not want to be in the category of the truly brave men who won that medal twice. I am a coward who knows no knowledgeable person would call a soldier. I could taste the bile in my stomach making a race for the exit. Probably all I had was bile since I was asleep for six months. I found my train of thought shifted away from the excruciating possibility of receiving a second prestigious medal to wanting to eat, badly; to hell with the pills.

“Oh, I doubt it. They already have a man pegged to get that for the battle and it sure isn’t going to be you. In fact Sgt. Henderson is going to get it for saving your life.” Heck said with a smirk on his face.

“Oh great, I supposed that there is some Infantry code that says Henderson owns me now or something.”

“No, I wouldn’t worry about it Balls. Henderson tried to turn it down but they insisted. You won’t even recognize him. The Brass wanted him to take a shower and get new armor.”

“You’re kidding? Henderson, a shower?”

“Really. But there is more we need to talk about. Your next assignment.”

Part 23

“But, What about the Manalo? I was supposed to be assigned to it as Security Officer.”

Heck reached in his pocket and pulled out a data pad and said, “They had to replace you; it looked like you might not make it. But Capt. Julius sent this to you in case you woke up. Tell you what; I’m sure you’re hungry. Get something to eat and we’ll talk more on the way back to SP-313. I’ll send the Doc back in to clean you up.” With that, Heck left and I sat feeling revolted at the prospect of owing Henderson my life and loosing my commission as Ensign and having to stay with Infantry. Well there was nothing I could do about it, so I hit the nurse button on the bed so I could eat.

On the transport to SB-313, Heck was a lot more guarded about my next assignment. The more I pressed the more he evaded answering my inquiries. Until he just told me to drop it and that we would talk more after the ceremony. This transport was very nice. There was a lot of press corp. around and nobody seemed to pay much attention to the random Infantry around. As I was walking down a corridor, I looked out a window and saw a fleet escorting this transport. Two destroyers, two fighter wings, three cruisers, and an Orion class Battleship. In fact, it was the Flag ship. Last I heard it was on the other side of the Frontier fighting the Sungata Fleet.

That alone should have alerted me to the fact that this was no ordinary transport or Ceremony. “You there,” An armed security guard yelled at me. “You do not have clearance to be in this corridor.” I didn’t immediately recognize the uniform. Then it hit me, this was a member of Union Prime Minister’s Security Force. That means the Chancellor of the Alliance is on board.

“Uhm, right, uh, I’ll just head back to the main deck.” I turned around and moved toward the main deck praying the Security Officer wasn’t going to vaporize me. They wear sleek black uniforms with long grey overcoats. The coats are specially designed with static shielding. The exact nomenclature of the coat is classified, even for some MI people, or I should say, most. The officers wear an energy pack that powers a Micro Replication Unit that is only programmed to replicate certain items. Like the side arm he had.

The B&D 14V, is large for a side arm. It looks somewhat circular with a flat bottom, which is where the power pack goes. The hand wraps around the back grip and the front to stabilize. There’s a four-inch barrel protruding from the front. Its fire rate is twice of the Palto 8, with the same firepower at medium setting. They are extremely difficult to make. The pack also powers the coat and the weapons. Lastly, they wear a visual shield that gives them a heads up display with all kinds of information available to them.

Well, I made it and took a seat on the transport’s descent seats and just waited until we landed. As soon as we touched down, I was the first off and made myself scarce until the ceremony began. When I departed the transport I was struck by the sight laid out before me. The fortress that stood in impressive stature just months before, that was a testament to the strength and power of the Alliance now was just a pile of smoldering rubble. In front of it a new structure was in place, a large stage with the sweeping crest of the Alliance; gathered before it was a large contingent of soldiers and civilians. All branches of service were there and prominently placed up front was Bravo Group. There were dignitaries and politicians everywhere; people with video devices, and Security Officers everywhere. I didn’t know there were that many in existence.

Some official looking people shuttled the other Infantry and me off to the staging area. While in there, they kept me away from other members of the Infantry. I finally saw Henderson. Then I understood why they kept me aside. They didn’t want Henderson to be robbed of his moment of glory. Having another Union Star winner getting another medal could take the glimmer off Henderson. I watched Henderson for a long time and the troops came to him and patted him on the back and congratulated him. Some even thanked him. He was the center of activity back stage. For a moment I was jealous. But then I remembered; I was a coward who seemed to benefit from the deaths of brave men like Henderson. Sure he was an ass, and most of the time I couldn’t stand him, but he was brave. He also saved my life so it was time to give him his due respect.

“Here you go sir,” a porter said, as he handed me my new dress armor and a clean uniform. He looked at Henderson and turned to me and said, “It really is an honor to be in a room with two heroes like you and Sgt. Henderson. I just can’t believe what happened here.”

I looked at him and nodded and he went on his way passing out more uniforms. I looked at my uniform and there were medals pinned to my armor. I didn’t know I had earned so many. There was one for each engagement, several for getting injured and, of course, The Union Star. I put on my uniform and waited in my corner for the ceremony to start. The Chancellor appeared back stage and privately was thanking the men for what happened here. The Prime Minister went up to the Chancellor and whispered something in his ear and left. The Chancellor turned and followed him to a secluded area. His aide turned and addressed the crowd of soldiers.

“Alright people the ceremony will start in five minutes, all medal recipients on the bleachers. You and you sit closest to the Podium.” she said, pointing to me and then turning and pointing to Henderson.

We moved as one group to the bleachers, most of the troops excited and giddy. I felt it was more like a funeral precession. Henderson was all smiles, and when he sat next to me he put his arm around me and said “thanks, Balls”

I just assumed he was glad my misfortune allowed him the opportunity to be a hero. The curtain drew back and the crowd roared. It never occurred to me why all these civilians and dignitaries were in a war zone. I stared in the crowd watching everyone look and point at Henderson. While I was doing this, I missed the intro for the Prime Minister. He came to the podium and began to speak. He was a slight man someone who you would not expect to make it to the highest level of Earth government. With all of the press coverage, well let’s face it he is not attractive. Bald, glasses, and kind of greasy looking.

Part 24

“Today we are gathered here to honor these men and women. They fought here and shed their blood to protect the Union of Earth and the Alliance. These are not the only heroes; everyone who fought here is a hero. Year in and year out, people died on this rock. Those people should not be forgotten. But this was a special battle a special time for all humanity. One day we will look back on this as a turning point in the war. I cannot tell you the appreciation I have for these people behind me. Now I would like to introduce a man who has been a beacon of leadership for the galaxy, a man who has shown the strength to vanquish our enemies. Chancellor Galving.”

The applause was deafening as the Chancellor almost glided to the podium. He was tall; light skinned and had dark hair. Very non-descript, handsome, but so were most politicians. He was a great speaker though, very powerful and direct. “Today we honor those who have fallen. We also honor those who lived. Those who have and will, sacrifice everything for the Alliance. I have seen that in all battles there is exceptional bravery. That is why every one who fought at SP-313 will receive the Citation for Bravery and the Citation for Merit. In addition, all of the troops behind me will receive the Silver Cross with Clusters for Valor. I am honorned to present a select few who fought above and beyond. First I want to tell you what happened here. Our base was surrounded by the largest ground force we have ever faced, and a new ground weapon that could have ended our presence in this quadrant and pushed our forces all the way back to Earth. That did not happen. These brave stood their ground and risked everything to give reinforcements a chance to arrive.”

“One man continued to fire on the enemy after the general evacuation was given. In fact, it was his precise shooting that made the Sungata Bomber crash into the massive weapon. That crash caused the overload that destroyed this base; the Sungata Fleet waiting to swoop in once our shields failed, the entire Luntare ground force and gave us a decisive advantage in this quadrant. The act cannot be denied. I don’t have to tell you the Alliance Cross has not been distributed that often, but after representatives of the Terran-Dalradian Alliance reviewed the case we felt this award, no this honor was earned on this site.”

Holy shit, Henderson was going to get the Alliance Cross. No living man ever won the Cross. No wonder he was smiling so brightly. The Chancellor continued “It is amazing given the circumstances that our honoree is alive to receive this award, but the brave acts of another made it possible. Before we award the Alliance Cross, I would like to thank the actions of Sergeant Henderson, which made it possible. The Sergeant will be awarded the Union Star. Congratulations.” The Chancellor turned and looked at Henderson and applauded and the crowd joined in. I applauded right along with them. As I looked at him Henderson was blushing. I could not believe my eyes, and then I saw a tear. Then it hit me.

If Henderson was getting the Union Starr, who was getting the Cross? “It is now my distinct pleasure to introduce you to the hero of the moment, a man whose fellow soldiers only refer to as Balls” (Oh shit, I must have been a real bastard in a previous life.) Please come forward so we may honor you.”

The crowed roared with applause, the soldiers behind me sang the TDA anthem. I just sat there hoping they made a mistake. Henderson then dragged me to the podium and made a remark about having to pick me up again. I stood at the podium, my knees wobbling and when my mouth opened, after the ribbon was placed around my neck, the contents of my stomach made their appearance and took a bow.

It happened like this. I was at my gun emplacement. The cannon fired at my position and I was knocked into a radiation coma. My armor was fused in place. So my cannon kept firing. My stray shots were doing a better job taking out enemy targets than I was. The general evacuation was called because our wall was down and the Luntare were pilling in the encampment. I however stayed put. I was unconscious. My rate of fire continued so the transports bugging out thought I was still holding my ground. That is when an errant shot took out the bomber. The overload was imminent. The reactor started sending miniature shock waves; one of those waves hit me and knocked me free of the gunner’s platform. The Luntare went scrambling, knowing, in the miniature recesses of their minute brains, their doom was close at hand. It was the last transport to bug out. On board was one Sgt. Henderson. He saw that I was knocked free. He grabbed the pilot by the throat and said if he didn’t return he would crash the transport. They flew in low and Henderson had a couple of guys hold his feet as he hung out of the cargo door at the rear of the transport. As they passed over, Henderson managed to grab a piece of my armor and pull me to safety. That is a hero. Yes, he is the world’s biggest ass but he would have died to save me.

I sat in the med bay on the Cruiser that landed to provide security, because of the severity of my radiation burns; the brass was worried my expression of fluid was related. Heck came over and put is arm around me. “Hey chum, why so glum?” I could not look at him I just held the Cross in my hands and stared at it.

“I just don’t deserve this. I...I am not what everyone thinks I am.” I told him while shaking my head.

“Listen, a hero is never someone who strives to be a hero. A hero is a person who is put into a rough situation and responds to it. A hero avoids danger if he can and just thinks of survival when he is in danger; whether it is the survival of a nation, another person, or himself. No matter what you think of what happened here, others, people you consider are heroes, saw what happened and they think you deserve this. So I would tell you only one thing. Be a hero now and do not disrespect the brave souls who think you deserve this. Act like you are flattered and you would do it again.”

I nodded and Heck said something that damn near put me in a coma again. “Besides you won’t get the chance. The brass doesn’t want to see the only surviving Alliance Cross winner get dead on some space rock.” I was stunned.

“Does that mean I am going home?”

“Well, you have a publicity tour to go on first, rally the troops; that sort of thing. Then it’s back to Earth.”

Part 25

Earth, I had long ago decided I was never going to see my home again. I was sure and almost proven right on several occasions that I was never going back to Earth. I mean not only was I going to die but like countless others, I would be vaporized. Here I was, a paper hero going home. Other men died before me more will die after I leave the battlefield. And I am going home. I felt inclined to reject the concept of going home. I wanted to protest Heck as he congratulated me. But once again the coward in me made me accept my good fortune. Go home, “OK I will. If that is how I can best serve the TDA, I’ll do it” I said to Heck. Now, only moments after my doubt, I believed this is what I was supposed to do.

The UPCS transports were boxy, cramped little things. You entered either through the cockpit or the rear cargo hatch. The transport was basically a box with a short snub-nosed cockpit. It has seats lining one or two levels depending on the size. There are different designations long-range transports are typically bigger. But they could all travel about the same distance. I was lucky; usually you are packed tight in those things. I however was heading home. Not many people head towards Earth. The transports never go near the front lines either. They have absolutely no defenses; no weapons, shields, no anything.

I had several stops to make on the way back to Earth. Various stations and bases plus several colonies throughout TDA space. Along for the ride was a Signal Corp officer in charge of my PR tour. He was affable enough. But the man would never shut up. He was constantly chatting. I had been looking forward to some civil discourse with an educated person for the longest time. That was assuming that I would get to speak. That is why I was almost glad we crashed. I didn’t want him to die of course, but he finally shut up and that can’t be a bad thing.

Part 26

Charlotte, what can I say about her? She is amazing. I remember in my formative years, even with the war, my concentration was never on things that really mattered. I realize now why teenagers never care about what is going on outside their world. It is the opposite sex; or, more directly, the quest for relations with the opposite sex. Once a person gets married the drive is curtailed to some degree and people are free to explore other avenues.

So, it should come as no surprise that being stuck on a rock that is barely habitable with little food or water, I could not help but not care. I was with a fascinating woman. She was not the most beautiful woman you could lay eyes on but she was a captivating soul.

“So you are the Hero, huh?”

“Well as a mater of fact I was awarded a few medals.”

“That’s what I like, modesty. Most of the grunts I run into can’t wait to tell how brave they are.”

“Well I assure you I am a coward, and I was told just recently that that was just fine.”

“A coward? You don’t say? Why would they award the Alliance Cross to a coward? And with a name like Balls coward just does not spring to mind”

With her comment I blushed. I have heard that nickname a thousand times but when she said it was like watching a nude scene in a movie theater next to your mom. I proceeded to tell her the whole story. How I got into the infantry and how my actions sometimes betrayed my true coward tendencies. After my confessional, she just looked at me for the longest time and then she said, “I never want to hear you call yourself a coward again.” I couldn’t help but be confused by her remarks. She could tell by the look on my face I didn’t understand. “Listen what you just did was as brave as anything I have ever seen in battle. You opened up and told the truth. Also, you could have run at any time. People do it all the time, but you accepted your fate and went to battle knowing you were probably going to die. And being more intelligent than the average grunt you may have realized the gravity of the situation more.” Then for no apparent reason she kissed me; even after I told her about the incident with Delancy. I have to say the kiss was nice if unspectacular. Even though I felt the only reason I didn’t run was because I was too much of a coward.

She asked me a lot about Heck. I never really thought that much about it. I realize it is unusual for a man to command a unit or, what ever it was he commanded, who seemed to have no rank. She pointed out that even as unusual as things were, that is beyond abnormal. It is still the military after all and the military is legendary for red tape and paperwork. The more I thought of it the more I found certain circumstances I witnessed very unusual. I found this train of thought unproductive with a woman I was sure I was falling in love with sitting next to me.

I spent the next weeks trying to get further with Charlotte. I know now that trying to excrete extra fluids and having additional exertion was not the brightest idea but how was I to know we were going to get rescued. Once we had relations I tended to worry more about the fact we had been on this rock for some time and I might die again. I had just gotten used to the idea of going back to Earth and now it dawned on me that I was stranded and going to die...

Part 27

Have you ever had a dream come true? We all have dreams. If you are lucky you never get your dream. It is more fun to dream. It is never what you expect once you get what you want. I think the worst trick the devil can do is grant your wildest dreams. If you go for your dreams you almost certainly give up the things you already have. I don’t think it is a case of having your cake and eating it too. Back on Earth I found myself missing my Unit and my cohorts. People here seemed to move in slow motion. Even those who seemed to be moving faster seemed to be doing it for no good reason. I gave speeches all over the place I never made it home though. So, what happens, an attack, here, on Earth. Earth was hit by a combined attack of the three major powers against the TDA. They took a major risk by cutting across Chahorte space. We did not defend our border there because we assumed the Chahorte would destroy anyone who violated their space; unless they signed a non-aggression pact. In that case, we would be screwed.

In a weird way I was glad. I missed getting shot at. I was bored. Before I was doing something, something important. I thought I always wanted to be an academic, or a researcher. But I COULD NEVER DO THAT NOW. I realized I have changed. Earth was being attacked our defenses would turn it back but we were so over extended that If a second attack happened, our fleet could not get back in time. I decided it was time to see Admiral Brooks. I went to him to plead my case for a united response.

“You want to do what?” Brooks demanded of me.

“I think it is only reasonable. Correct me if I am wrong but haven’t the Chahorte attacked us any time we got near their border?”

“Well yes that is a fact, but…”

“And isn’t it a fact that the Sungata task force not only got near but crossed and traveled extensively in the Chahorte territory?”

“Well yes but, but…”

About now my juices were flowing. I was really enjoying this. I will always be an analyst at heart. And I was dead sure the way I had things figured out were the way things had to be. And I did not mind telling the Admiral about it. “There can be only one conclusion. At the very least, the Chahorte have a non-aggression pact with the Sungata. It is painfully obvious.”

“Well let’s take this to Marshal Deerfield.”

Field Marshal George Deerfield, what can you say about that slime bag? Somehow he became Strategic Commander defending Earth. Since Earth had not been attacked in a generation or two, this was considered a largely unimportant position. Even still, most people are baffled how this former politician and thief got to be in such a high-ranking office. Most everyone who knew him despised him. He was not even pleasant to look at. Nor was he charming. It baffles me to this day how he got such power.

“Well, I am not sure of the validity of your analysis. I know you are well regarded amongst the populace but I don’t feel you have the right qualifications to give me this advice.”

DICK

Marshal Deerfield kept reading the proposal and shaking his head. “I just don’t feel this will be profitable for Earth.” Deerfield said. That, of course, would not make sense to the average person. I am going to have my new chief analyst review this and give me his recommendation. He will be in contact with you.”
With that, we were escorted out of the Marshal’s office. I couldn’t believe the Admiral was treated so shabbily. He was in line to become the current Field Marshal for the battlefront. “I can’t believe he just dismissed this outright.” I said.

“Well, Balls, I don’t think he likes having ideas brought to him that are not his own. That’s not right but what can we do; unless the Chancellery decides to remove him. But they won’t because of the attack they wouldn’t dare remove the commander.”

I shook my head in disbelief. I wanted to throw up. Just then a courier came and got me to meet with the Chief Analyst. I said my goodbyes to the Admiral, and headed down the hallway to meat with the Analyst. When I reached the door, I couldn’t believe my eyes. I had to look in the door to see the man for myself; Jesus Lopez. I don’t know how my stomach can put up with me for too much longer. After all the impulses to reject the items I recently deposited in it, it must get tiresome for it. My cousin. There is a short list of people in this galaxy I cannot stand. Lopez is right on top of the list. This is another guy who has no business being where he is.

I know what you think. I have no business being where I am, I didn’t deserve my awards and medals. The difference is I admit that and I never wanted them in the first place. This guy is a sleaze... I have known him for years him and his father, my uncle. His father is a con artist preacher who is collecting funds for displaced peoples who lost their settlement because of the war. He has traveled the galaxy at one point and admittedly has done some things for people but the last decade he just collects money and buys new toys and builds himself new houses.

Jesus is just like him. He tells people he was a sports star. He tells them he was an all Western Hemisphere Grappler, in reality he was just on the Championship Grappler team. He also likes to say how he was in the Fleet Academy, but what he doesn’t mention is he dropped out after three weeks. You have to pull serious strings to get in the academy, and if you fail; you get sent to the Infantry immediately not Jesus. He wound up in college. Then he actually did go into the military. He even wound up in MI. After he got a commission, which I am not exactly sure how he did that, he was allowed to leave the military. I couldn’t believe it! I lost track of him when I was on the front lines. I was glad I would die without ever having to see that son of a bitch again.

I hope I didn’t say that too strongly. Let me just say this once more, so the context of our conversations are not lost, I hate him. I don’t hate the Sungata, even though they try to kill me. “Well I am surprised you didn’t leave as soon as you found out I was here,” Jesus smirked. “I know you don’t like discipline and the organization I demand. You know how it is, I do not tolerate disrespect. I have a Master’s Degree (IN PHYS ED!!!) and I am the Chief Analyst. Don’t forget it.”

“I haven’t said a thing about you being here…”
“If you can’t be here without back talking you can just leave now.”

“Jesus, it’s your show I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Don’t be condescending to me. I won’t stand for it.”

First of all I never understood where his animosity comes from. All I said was I would do what ever he wanted. I hate him. I went over my summery as to why we needed to try and contact the Chahorte and what could be the possible ramifications.

“I don’t think you are right here. I mean you are not an analyst you really should leave this sort of things to qualified people like me.” (Remember I have no idea how he got this job. I am the one with the degree in Sociology.) “I’ll let you know. You can go now.”

Fine, if that was the way he wanted to be, they could rot in their arrogance. I was about to leave to go to base Lunar 1 to give a pep speech to departing troops. A few days later I got back to Earth. Charlotte was waiting for me at my barracks. I tried to kiss her but she hesitated. “Listen Balls what we did was nice but I don’t love you. I don’t regret it but I thought we were going to die.”

Now, how about that for picking up a person's self-esteem? I only had sex with you because I thought I was going to die. Great.

“Don’t take that the wrong way; I just don’t want to get tied down with anyone right now. I mean we could all die at anytime. It just does not make sense to me.”

“I understand,” though I really didn’t, “can we still be friends?” I am so pathetic. How badly must a person hate rejection?

“I was hoping you would say that. Did you hear the good news? Marshal Deerfield has commissioned a diplomatic mission to contact the Chahorte.”

“He did what?” I asked.

“His Chief Analyst came up with a plan that could mean diplomatic relations with the Chahorte.”

Did I mention I hate that guy? What ever, at least they were going to try. “So he is going to try and negotiate a coalition with the Chahorte, huh?”

“No, he is going to try and stop the passage of vessels throughout their space; to not allow the Sungata access to our space.”

Moron, I could not believe what I was hearing. My plan specifically stated that we could not lay that kind of demand on the Chahorte. They are extremely xenophobic and think that all space is theirs if they want it; even ours. They are basically peaceful but you cannot try and go to them from a position of power. “You have to have heard wrong” I said, “That is not what the plan said.”

“What do you mean?”

“I wrote the proposal to Deerfield; we have to get to Admiral Brooks now.”

“But he has already gone back to the front to get his commission as Marshall. He left last night”

“Well, if Lopez is allowed to continue his plan it could mean the end of the TDA but also life on Earth.”

It is a funny thing about conflicts, once they are engaged in it no longer matters why you are fighting it just matters that you win. Most of the time, you sacrifice everything to get involved with the conflict that if you don’t win, well what do you have left? It is like Jesus and me. I don’t exactly remember where the feud started but I am sure it was his arrogance that started it. Like the Tech Wars and now the Border Wars. I bet if you asked the Sungata why they were fighting or why they started fighting they either wouldn’t know or have a different reason to fight now. It had become personal. If they were truly interested in the territory the cost would have obviously outweighed the gain 100 years ago. But since it is personal neither side will ever back down.

“Well what is your plan?”

I stopped and looked in Charlotte’s eyes and realized that she was right. There really was nothing between us. She is sharp and obtuse. Maybe that’s why I like her so much. “We have to make contact with the Chahorte first but I’m not the man to do it, I need help. I need you to take me someplace; it could mean a court marshal.”

“If you think it’s that important I’ll do what ever you want.”

“I need to go to the front and you have a transport to get me there.’

“But, I have no armor or defense weapons. We would be a sitting duck.”

“I know, but we have to be able to get out of here without Deerfield finding out.”

Part 28

We were heading out. I had to find Heck. Navigating the front in a defenseless vessel is more than exhilarating. Once again, I unfairly put pressure on my stomach to keep its contents in while putting it in a situation that would dictate to do otherwise. Luck was with us. We found Heck aboard SB-101. It was the first major staging area for task forces to enter hostile territory. The Fleet was prepping for a major engagement.

“Heck, you have to help,” I yelled across the promenade deck, once I made him out of the crowd. Heck stopped and looked and immediately made me out as I crossed the deck. Heck cut me off and pulled me into a secluded offshoot of the main deck.

“What in the hell are you doing here?” Heck asked. It was the first time I had ever seen him unsure of a situation. For a moment I was captivated by the look of confusion on his face. That’s when Heck made me aware that I had not said anything yet. “Are you going to tell me why you came out here or what?”

I told him how Deerfield was sending a diplomatic entourage to negotiate with the Chahorte. Again the look of confusion appeared on Heck’s face. “I don’t get what the problem is. From what you told me you don’t like this Lopez guy, so it sounds like the worst thing that could happen is that he gets blown up.” Heck said.

“I thought you knew you always seemed to know about all the intelligence I ever read. So I just assumed you knew this also.” Again Heck looked totally perplexed. So I took a minute to give him a rundown of my history and the last known contact with the Chahorte. “We were issued a warning that any attempt to negotiate a territorial treaty would result in our destruction.”

“Hold on,” Heck interluded. “You mean you were in MI, and you wound up in Infantry. You know all these things about all these people and races and they let you live?”

“Well,” I said, “they sent me to the Infantry. Maybe they figured I would be dead along time ago.”

“Why would the Chahorte attack?” Heck asked.

“They view us as intruders on their territory, they tolerate our presence. But if we demand Separation, a Declaration of Independence, if you will, they won’t stand for it. I know it sounds strange but the Intel suggests they think we are not indigenous to Earth. They say we were immigrants.”

“No I have heard this before; I tend to believe what you are saying. I have one question, what you propose we do about this.”

Up until now, I was fairly sure of my plan but now that it was about to escape my lips it felt slightly absurd. “Umm, I think we need to make contact first and propose an incorporation of sorts. I want to petition a partnership, a military alliance.” Once the words were out, I expected the look of confusion to appear again on Heck’s face but it was not there. Instead he looked deep in thought.

“You need to go further; we have to ask for their help as a child would ask a parent.”

I was surprised at Heck’s response. He not only went for it but he expanded on it. “That’s why I came for your help. I could petition them myself but I fear I don’t have the commanding stature to make the appropriate impression. Also I am fairly sure without your tactical expertise, I would never make it into their territory to make contact and, if we did, exactly how to make contact.”

“You were right to come to me, but I think your ineptness will actually come in handy.”

Chapter

. The UPCS transport we were on was one of the small ones. They were used to shuttle Command staff from one Command vessel to another. We had to take one that no one would notice was gone, which meant a surplus. Once the Commanders wear one out, they usually spread manure in the arboretum of the Admiralty ships. Even though the skin of the ship is just as thin, as its bigger cousins, I felt more vulnerable in this little one. Its DSN was UPCS-TDA102342. The last three digits tell the cubic feet. This thing has 300 cubic feet for passengers. Since it usually just had one person in it, while it was in service, the size didn’t matter. In fact it rarely ever traveled more than a few hundred meters from its home ship.

The one I was on during my tour was a 1,000 cubic feet, because I had to entertain guests while transporting from system to system. I felt much more comfortable. Now we were about to sneak into hostile territory, reconnoiter and make contact with people who don’t wish to speak to us, without defenses, and hope we make it back. I was sure this time I was dead. The stakes were simple if we failed, we would be dead. Charlotte let me sit in the navigator chair during our journey. I watched her manipulate the controls of the craft with awe. She made it clear I was not to speak to her during our journey. Flying this contraption was not a passive endeavor. Both feet had two sets of controls to manipulate. Her right hand was on a long rod that moved on a 360-degree axis. It had had controls and seemed that needed to be twisted from time to time. Her left hand was affixed to a joystick of sorts. It seemed to be busier than the rest. Lastly, she wore a helmet that contained her heads-up display and I am reasonably sure navigation controls were also connected to it in some manner.

Humans are the joke of the galaxy. We are the only species who cannot seem to get past our two-dimensional heritage. All of our Fleet craft are orientated front to back, or bow to stern. In fact we are the only higher race that still uses windows for navigation. In fact we don’t rally need the windows. I doubt Charlotte even used hers. She was to busy. I would feel shame in our ineptitude when it comes to our physiological advancements, or our lack there of. We are not losing this war. We came to space perhaps centuries after every other race and yet we could master space. Maybe it was our unconventional navigation techniques in space that frustrated the others so much. They perhaps were not used to straight line flying. It was clear using this data why once fighting became sub hemophilic, we dominated.

Part 29

We’re halfway into the Chahorte space and nothing. I half suspected to be overwhelmed by their defense forces by now. A tornado of activity exploded in the cockpit of the transport. A fighter was coming in at us. It wasn’t the Chahorte, it was the Sungata. This can’t be happening. It was a short-range fighter. The mother ship had to be around here. I could understand a fighter but if there was a mother ship around, that meant it’s flying around with impunity.

I was not the only one who noticed. Heck came charging up to the cockpit to find out what was going on. Then the firing started. We were being tosseled around like a pinball. Heck grabbed the auxiliary controls and began to help Charlotte control the craft. I tried to find a place to sit down and buckle up.

I have put a lot of thought into the after life. I assumed all along that this war would mark the end of my life. So many people have gone off to fight over the years and so many haven’t come home. Luckily for us, the weapons we use basically disintegrated the bodies of their victims. Otherwise, Earth would have run out of places to bury people a long time ago. I always wanted to believe that there was a God and I would miraculously appear in heaven and the pain of this life would wash away. Having several near death experiences, I expected to see a bright light or something. But alas I saw nothing. If I were going to hell I figured there would be a representation of Admiral Delancy standing with her pointed heel pushed straight into my chest.

I had studied religions during my time in University. All had one common theme, a being or force that moves through all things that connects to us. Some have representations for good and evil, others say there is no good, or evil, but acts in accordance to a bell curve. But I digress. The one thing everyone had in common is an after life. Before, I thought the scientists I knew were naive in their beliefs, that there was no God. Now I was not so sure. In fact, the more I faced death and the more I felt there was no afterlife the more I wanted to stay out of danger. So how do I respond to my wish to stay out of danger? I volunteer to go into a situation that would mean almost certain death.

Part 30

“Hey, wake up, Balls. Are you with me?” Heck said, while slapping me across the face. It seems I never made it to my seat. A blast from an enemy fighter sent us into a spin and I hit the ceiling.

“Yeah I am with you; I must say I am glad I am alive.”

“I thought you might”

“No, I wouldn’t really mind dying (LIAR), I was just glad the first person I saw in the afterlife was you.”

Heck burst into laughter. I was not known as a cut up. In fact I think that was the first joke I told in years. “Balls, I had no idea you actually knew a joke let alone could tell one.”

“I haven’t felt like I was in a joking mood lately, since joining the infantry.”

“I understand; there was a time in my life that I thought I would never laugh again. From my teens until my late thirties I don’t think I cracked a smile.” That comment struck me as odd. I had Heck no older than 35 maybe 38. He was young. I mean he had boyish good looks. Maybe that was throwing me off. “I wonder when they are going to come get us. I hope Charlotte is alright.”

At first, I had no idea what Heck was talking about. I watched him as his eyes moved about our cell. Ah. Our cell; we were in a holding cell. We had been captured. This was odd. All the known races we were in conflict with were not in the habit of capturing enemy combatants. They went out of their way to kill them. “We are locked up.” I said.

“Yup, that we are.” Heck said as matter of factly as he could.

“How, I mean what happened?”
“I uhm, I’m not really sure. You were knocked goofy and then there were massive blasts all around us. We got caught in a tractor beam. I could not isolate where it was coming from and the next thing I knew I woke up on the floor next to you. I was also glad I wasn’t dead.”

I was half sitting on the floor listening to Heck tell me what happened and examining our surroundings when the door, well, evaporated. A uniformed person came into the cell. The uniform was red, more of a scarlet. He wore a helmet with a white and black insignia on the side in an arrow pattern that looked like it was pointing to the ground. The uniform looked very formal; almost ceremonial. He had a jacket that matched his scarlet helmet with gold insignia on the chest and arm; probably identifying rank. He was holding a large silver staff with a gold globe seated in what resembled an eagle’s claw. “Stand.” He demanded. “Follow me.” With that command he turned and headed out the door. Heck and I were already on our way up to our feet when the demand was uttered. I’m sure he felt as I did. Neither of us wanted to stay in that cell. And when he said follow we didn’t hesitate.

“Who do you think they are?” I asked Heck.

“Silence.” the uniformed escort bellowed at us without breaking stride and without looking back at us. He led us down a long hallway that was about 15 meters wide. Every ten meters or so was another uniformed person. They were all similarly dressed as our escort. I could not help but think how striking the colors worked together. The knee high black boots white pants with the scarlet and gold stripe. The coat had tales almost like a tux. As we walked, I noticed writing on the walls. I saw computer panels, so the writing was probably for ceremony not for directions. The further we went the larger the characters became. They were very similar to Japanese. I looked at Heck and he saw it too. He shrugged his eyebrows to suggest he was not sure either. That didn’t inspire confidence in me.

The man I had come to depend on. As sure of himself in any situation as anyone I had ever seen; was now as useless as I. Great. We came to a large set of what looked like bronze doors. Our escort tapped the door with his staff and the door evaporated again and we walked into a grand chamber. The room was ancient looking. The walls had what looked to be timbers that ran up the ceiling. There were grand tapestries on the walls that portrayed men on horseback, in uniforms that had the same color scheme as the other men in the room with us now. Some had an opposite color scheme. Red pants white jacket.

“Stay here.” Our escort demanded and proceeded to a line of men and what looked to be a woman in front of us in a line. Then it occurred to me. He was speaking English to us. I hadn’t noticed, until just then, I was so distracted by the surroundings. Our escort made his way over to the line of people and kneeled before them and stood. He said something in a tongue I didn’t recognize and then went and stood by a wall. A large curtain opened and what looked like a normal human being walked out. He was in black. He had a black long coat and ornate black armored chest. He examined us, looked us up and down, turned and walked away.

Then another woman came in. As she entered, the rest of the room came to their knees. She was in the same gold and red covering, with a mostly white uniform. She had a red head sash that covered the top of her head and draped down to a point on the side of her chest. Protruding from the back of her head seemed to be feathers that were gold and silver. As she came closer to us, I could see she was wearing a mask of gold. The face was very feminine, very beautiful; which probably meant she was a dog. My intellect was disappointing me. I was slow seeing her face was also human. I was too distracted by the bobbles.

“You are Heck?” she asked as she maneuvered about us examining everything about us.

“Yes I am. Would it be more appropriate if we were to kneel?” Heck asked. I had no idea he was so sensitive to diplomatic niceties.

“You are fine; I do not expect your kind to respect tradition.” She said. I found the remark to be odd. “Why did you come here?”

“I’m not sure where we are?” I volunteered

“I was not speaking to you coward. I asked Heck. I expect to not hear your voice again. Now tell me why you are here.”

I expected Heck to reiterate my statement of not knowing where we were, but to my surprise Heck’s intellect was working at a higher level than my own at the time. “You obviously have read our minds, so you know why we came to contact you.” They had to be the Chahorte but that didn’t explain their appearance.

“You are very intelligent. Is that because of your genetic manipulations?” I couldn’t believe my ears. She must have been mistaken. Heck was no hybrid. Or was he? What did I really know about him? Nothing. If I had time to think about it things might have had a chance to make sense.

“Yes, I was genetically altered as a boy. We have come to ask you to join us against those that would destroy us.” Heck responded.

“We have no interest in your problems.”

“Please at least give me an audience, if you feel after we don’t warrant consideration we will leave.”

“Fine, lay out your case I will hear you”

It was then I lost the thread of the conversation, I couldn’t get over my hybrid companion. How could this be? A hybrid? Left too my own devices, I might have just stood there contemplating the data I just heard for the rest of the war. I don’t know exactly how long I stood there. My daze was finally broke by Heck gently slapping me across the face to get my attention.

“Balls, are you with me.” Heck asked almost whimsically.

I looked around and the hall was empty. No guards, or whatever they were and no woman that Heck was talking to. “What happened?” I asked

“I’ll tell you on the way.”

“The way where?”….

Part 31

This is the way of the world. I first learned this as a youngster. You finally think you have a handle on things and then your world is turned upside down, or sideways. For instance, I was about to graduate high school and all was right with the world. Then my grandfather died. You would think, with all of the dying going on in the world, you would become numb to it all. That is just not the case. When you care for someone and they are taken from your life to never to return, it hurts. It can affect you in way you won’t comprehend for years to come.

Other things do the same. Like when I was sure I was going to die, I became acceptant of it. I no longer feared it. I then found that evil little thing called hope. Once I opened the box and used hope I was a different person again. Damn you Pandora. Now I was faced with a fact that was more than disturbing. Another thing having your world turned can do is destroy your allusions. I always felt that I would be Ok if I met a Hybrid. Now that I am sitting in a shuttle with one, I couldn’t help but feel betrayed and frightened of him all at the same time. I never thought of myself as a bigot but here I was looking at a man, whom I respected only hours before, looking down upon him. I did not feel worthy to hold his jock strap yesterday but today I felt superior to him based on the fact I am all-natural.

“So, Balls, were you paying attention at all when we met with the Regent?’

“Huh… Um, before we get into that I have to tell you something. I have some issues with your condition.”

“My condition, you make out like I have a disease.”

“I am not sure how to respond to this situation.”

“You don’t have to do anything,” Heck said clearly getting irritated with the scope of my statements.

“I just don’t know what to do with this.”

“Listen I know all about what people think about Hybrids, frankly I have grown tired of it over the years. I didn’t choose to be modified. In fact I am very aware of how the process happens. Oh yes, it still happens today. People think you can alter anyone’s genes. It is just not the case. Only one in 30,000 embryos’ can be modified successfully. You already have to have superior genes to be able to be modified. Besides that, you are the last person I would expect to look down on someone for being different.”

He was right on. It hit me like a ton of bricks. I am in no position to judge someone for being different. I was out of place just for being born as well. Who among us fits in all the time? We just fall into place enforcing society’s prejudices without examining them. The ban against genetic modification is just as unreasonable as banning the sciences like they did hundreds of years ago “you’re right Heck, I’m sorry.”

“If my genes threw you into a brain freeze wait till you hear this. First the Chahorte are going to help us.”

“That’s great.” I said, with some confusion.

“Wait it gets more involved. It seems we are the same people.” Now I was totally captivated by what Heck was saying and he could tell. “Several generations ago there was a revolt on the Chahorte. People vehemently opposed to the bastardization of the theocratic society, which was in place with even further technologies, decided to leave the system. You know where they landed?”

“Earth?” I knew the answer that was coming.

“Right. Only things didn’t work out like they planned…”

“Wait I couldn’t have been a daze that long how did you learn all this?”

“Well while you were lost in your own little world the Regent Used the device they had to read or minds in reverse. It instantly gave me a run down of the Chahorte history. Anyway, the Chahorte tried to incorporate the people back into civilization but the offshoot rejected any efforts to reincorporate. Eventually the new inhabitants of earth gave up all technologies. Over the years the knowledge of what happened was lost. Some people tried to get around the bans on technologies that went so far as to ban writing implements, by leaving clues in sculptures to future generations. If you examine our history the grand religious civilizations set up by the ancient inhabitants were abolished by those who feared the advancement of those peoples. It sent the world into the Middle Ages. Even though we slowly moved out of the darkness of the ban, you could still see the resistance to develop over the years.”

“Amazing, now that you say it, the evidence all lines up, but why are the Chahorte so against helping us over the years?”

“They have kept a close eye on us over the years, they felt we had become irrational and too violent. We segregated ourselves then enslaved ourselves. When the Tech Wars started they were sure we were reverting back to our old tendencies. When we were able to leave our solar system they were afraid our perjuries would infect them, being we are genetically linked.”

“I see,” that was a lot to take in. but the more I thought of it the more it made sense. It made a lot of sense historically we were a devastatingly violent people. “So why did they decide to help us?”

“Well, the Sungata has invaded their territory. It explains the lack of Sungata attacks and why the other races are more involved. It seems the Sungata hold part of the Chahorte territory closest to Earth. That is why we were attacked through the Chahorte Territory.”

“How long were we being held?”

“We have been guests of the Chahorte two and a half weeks.”

“What happened to Lopez’s diplomatic envoy?”

“They were turned away by the Chahorte and the Sungata captured them.”

I want to let you know right now that this little bit of news made me happier than anything I heard for years. This thought makes me so happy let me just say, yeah. I am not a person who rejoices in the misery of others. I am a humanist, and I believe all life is sacred. I just don’t consider Lopez human or a viable life. So there.

“So, where on Earth are we going now?” I asked.

Heck smiled coyly and said, “No where on Earth.”

Part 32

As a people we advanced through many stages. Hunter, gatherer, agrarian, traders, religious zealots, industrial age, digital age, nano age, you get the idea. You could categorize human development even more closely if you wanted to. The whole concept is open for scrutiny. All accept one idea. We humans came from primordial slime. Amino acids charged by electricity and 45 billion years later, boom you got homosapians. In modern times religion has fallen by the wayside. Oh, there is a church or two here and there but nothing like it used to be. Science is the religion of choice. You can question any scientific philosophy except we come from slime. Throughout our history intolerance for different ideas was always prevalent. You know real outrageous stuff like the Earth is not the center of the universe, the world is not flat, and there are aliens among us. These ideas were always met with disbelief and scorn; sometimes, violence.

All ideas outside the realm of accepted thinking always brought the purveyors of said knowledge scrutiny and ridicule. What happens when they turn out to be correct? Well, the establishment only acknowledges the fact that they were really right all along because the personnel scorned was not a real scientist or didn’t have proper peer review or didn’t follow scientific methods...

Nowadays there are no great thinkers left. New technologies and inventions are produced at university settings more akin to factories in the early 20^th century than the advance academia of the time. Even the twisted period of socialist thinkers that prevailed colleges across the land in the 20th century, have disappeared. A trend started many years ago, I’m not sure exactly when, but people became compartmentalized. The more people became specialist in one area the less they talked to each other and the less ideas were shared.

The sciences have always been segregated. This is where I felt religion could have played a major role. If you think about it, religions major premise has always been that God or a God force moves through all things. All things are interconnected. Buhdisdam, Zen and Taoists seem to have capitalized on this idea more so than the Christian and Muslims but they share the same ideals. Otherwise, wow, could you make comparisons between biology and geology. If you believe all things are connected you can begin to see parallels that were invisible to you before.

I must admit that until very recently I too was guilty of not making those connections. I have no particular religious affiliation. The events of the recent past have lead me down a different path and I am really beginning to believe that maybe there is more to things than accidental ooze.

Part 33

“We are going where?” I asked not understanding at all.

“The Moon, man.” Heck said slyly.

“But just a moment before you told me we were going to find a secret Chahorte base.”

“That’s right,” Heck said adding, “Can’t you put it together without me holding your hand through it?”

“There’s a secret base on the moon.” I was astonished at this revelation. The Chahorte had been watching us all this time.

“No.” Heck answered.

“Huh?” was the best I could get out.

“The Moon is the base.” Heck said.

“The whole moon?” I asked.

“Every inch.”

“Huh?”

“You know, Balls, lately your vocabulary seems to have regressed a little.”

“Words cannot explain the state of confusion I find myself in right now.”

“Listen, it’s more than a base, it’s how the Chahorte colonized Earth. The separatists left their home world and used the Moon as a staging point to get supplies and to build there monuments to the various gods they worshiped. Once everything was completed they shut down the moon and disbanded all technologies.”

“So our ancestors were religious zealots who were totally against technology?” I asked.

“Exactly, and from what I understand they wanted to set up a utopian society where liberty was the end all be all and people were free to worship or live how they wanted.”

I have found, the only constant in the universe, is the way you think things are, is exactly wrong. You are probably wrong about that. It’s my understanding that the universe is too vast and immense to understand. It’s small and intricate enough that the coincidences are enough to drive you crazy. Everything I have been telling you in this memoir could be an entire work of fiction, you just don’t know.

Many things began to spin in my head. My conceived notions of world history had just been turned upside down and inside out. It would seem the ancient people that lived on earth really were more advanced than its predecessors were. Looking at history, you would suspect it, but now it had been validated for me. It was a bit much to take all at once. “Why exactly is it imperative that we go to the moon?”

Heck looked at me as if he had an epiphany. “Right now we need to try and use it to set up a defense for Earth. You see, it’s armed.”

“That’s great but whose going to operate it?” I asked, quite sure I had finally stumped Heck on a point.

“I have all the knowledge to operate the station from the mind transformation and Charlotte is going to help maneuver it.”

“I guess you have it all figured out.” I said, as I sat down still, trying to grasp what was going on. Charlotte yelled back at me.

“Hey, don’t get to comfortable we’re here.”

Part 34

Throughout time there were people who worshiped the moon. I always assumed it was a nomadic people who hunted at night. Now I find these people may have actually been ancestor worshipers, paying reverence to where they came from. In fact, many religions started to make more sense. The fact the dark ages came about was probably inevitable. If the planet was based on anti-technology, when people started advancing, a backlash to the opposite extreme was predicable.

People speculated for years that primitive man was more advanced than we gave him credit for; some went so far as to say he was even more advanced. Turns out they were right. That bothered me greatly on some level. I’m not a Darwinist by any means. Had I been born hundreds of years ago, I don’t believe we were some sort of accident. I’m not so arrogant to believe we were that special. Nor do I believe that a God made just us and only us. I am not saying there is not a Supreme Being, who else could I blame for my bad luck? I am just saying we we’re not that special. I believe in a God. I just think there are some things we are not meant to understand, even if we were told, I still don’t think we would understand.

I know I said I have no real feelings for Charlotte, and that is true. She is amazing. I ask anyone; show me one shuttle pilot who doesn’t bat an eye when you ask her to fly to the moon. Even more than that, she thinks she can do it. We docked in the moon by going into a crater, at least, it was what I thought was a crater, called the Sea of Tranquility. Once inside we made our way to the control room. We were guided by Heck who had a map of the station in his genetically enhanced brain. The whole way there, Charlotte peppered Heck with questions on maneuvering the craft.

Somewhere along the way I lost track of my compatriots. I spent what must have been hours wandering the station. In fact, it would be safe to speculate that was how I got lost in the first place. The ship was divided into several sections. Each had what I would call chapels. In each of these chapels I found pictographs and drawings that I related to items I saw in art history books on Earth. I knew going into this ship that I would find items that would provide a genealogical look into our past. But the amount and detail that you still find in everyday society amazed me. We had not changed really all that much; just how we live.

This just made me think about the arrogance of mankind. I guess that would now include the Chahorte. These people thought they could discard who they were; using the very things they were trying to leave behind. It reminds me of the things that went on since then. How we thought we could actually warm the globe. Or how we could either disband religion or stop the progress of science. Our universe is a living thing. It works best when there is a balance. I’m not trying to get all-metaphysical with you but any good physicist can tell you all things are connected. We ignore this to get what we want or to feed our own egos.

Speaking of which if I had an ego I am sure it would have been bruised. Not only had I not noticed that I was not with my people; they hadn’t noticed I was not there either. I began to look for them following what looked to be directions to a command center, stopping along the way to marvel at the art works and decorations. I heard Charlotte talking in a room I came to and went in to make my presence known. She was standing discreetly in the corner talking into a hand held communicator. Most people may not have recognized it but since I was in Intelligence I knew what it was immediately. The peculiar thing was that it was not an Alliance communicator. It was Tuntra. I made myself scarce I had to hear what she was saying.

Something I have noticed is no matter what humans think of someone, if they get the chance to think someone is bad they’ll take it. Once there was a highly regarded man in the community. He was a person who would drop anything to help his family and neighbors. He was well regarded at his work where he dealt with many people all day long. One day his new boss, who was very narcissistic and couldn’t stand people, liked this guy more than him, fired him citing some bizarre misconduct. It was not specific at all. Try as he might the gentleman couldn’t redeem himself in the eyes of the community. People he thought were his friends changed overnight.

They thought the world of him but as soon as they were given a reason he was shunned. I found myself in the same position. I was all to ready to condemn Charlotte as a traitor. The problem of this line of reasoning is that sometimes you’re right.

Part 35

She was speaking in Tuntra. Then she saw me.

“Don’t move!” she yelled, as I froze in my tracks. “What did you hear?”

“Well since I don’t speak Tuntra I heard nothing of importance.” Oops, I just gave away the fact I knew the language she was speaking. All I could do was hope she wouldn’t notice what I said.

“So you know who I work for?” Damn, she noticed.

“I don’t know anything I swear.” As I protested ignorance, she pulled out a small blaster and pointed it at me. It was a common type of weapon used in the intelligence services. It was small enough it could be hidden anywhere on your body without detection. It was made of a specific polymer that circumvented any weapons tests.

“I don’t care if you know anything or not this ship is going with me, this will turn the tide of the war and we can finally end this.” She said.

“It doesn’t make any sense to take the ship away from here.” I said, stalling. I was hoping to get further away. I knew the blaster was less lethal the further away you were. But then I hit the wall behind me and I knew I was still in lethal range. But Charlotte was intrigued by what I was saying and wanted to know more.

“What do you mean?”

I scrambled in my brain. What did I mean? I had it. “Well you have a very powerful weapon here why not just point it at the Earth and destroy the planet, or better yet just set a collision course, crash into it and you’re the hero of the war.” What the hell was I saying?!

“Believe me I wish I could but the consortium wants the planet whole and the majority of your population alive to be put into labor camps.”

This was a new wrinkle. I always assumed that the goal was to destroy humanity because we were like vermin and fleece the system for resources. It seems their goals had changed. I could only assume that the consortium was the group of alien races out to destroy us.

“Besides it has already been approved by the Senate. If we use this station to destroy your forces then your people will quickly fall and this territory will be rightfully ours.”

Senate? What the hell was she babbling on about? I was so confused for a moment I almost forgot she had intentions of killing me. I moved closer trying to build trust. I was five feet away from her when Heck walked in from the other side of the room.

“Hey what’s going on in here we have work to---

Charlotte fired and Heck fell to the ground. I swear to you, it was like watching someone else’s body. I saw myself standing in front of Charlotte as she turned to fire at me. I watched my hand reach across to my right and grab what I can only assume was a ceremonial dagger from an alter and lunge forward pushing the not so sharp blade into her exposed chest as she fired the blaster.

Waking up from a state of unconsciousness is a terribly freighting thing. At first, you have no idea where you are or how you got into the position you were in. It’s like waking from a dream you didn’t know you were having. Your eyes are wide and you look around feverishly trying to figure out what happened. Am I in danger? Could it happen again? Sometimes even, who am I? This is a totally unpleasant experience. That’s why I felt so bad for Heck. He looked awful, but somehow I imagined his genetically enhanced brain was transitioning his experience faster than mine ever did.

“You all right Heck?”

“What the hell happened?”

Ah, he was human, “Charlotte was a Tuntra spy. She was going to take the ship to destroy our Fleet.

“Why not just destroy Earth I mean she’s right here?” Heck questioned while sitting up and scratching his head.

“It seems the Galaxy has other plans for our system.”

“Where is Charlotte now?” Heck asked understandably confused.

“Well I found that she had information that we needed. I found out that this station came equipped with a mind probe device they used on you. I took her to it and hooked her up.”

“Balls, I know I told you that it was my advanced brain that made my use of the machine possible. And I am pretty sure I mentioned it would kill you if you used it”

“You did.”

“Why would you do that then?”

“Well after she shot you, I stabbed her in the chest. She was going to die and I wanted answers.”

“Let me get this straight, you took a mortally wounded woman and basically tortured her to death?”

“I felt we needed, no, had to have, any information she had.”

“Balls, all of a sudden I am frightened of you.” Heck laughed though I’m not sure he was entirely kidding.

“Well I was born inquisitive and my mother always said never get between me and my object of inquiry. Besides, I think you’ll forgive me once you hear what I want to tell you.

Part 36

How complex is your world. If you sit and think about it, all the little nuances, I bet you would be surprised exactly how complex things really are. My professor, in sociology, told me once that more things happen in the world in five minutes that could ever be understood in one’s lifetime. That is a thought that needs processing. Now imagine the population expanded so much that the larger part of the solar system is colonized by several billion people. Now, add to it the populations of humans colonizing other solar systems. That’s a lot going on.

You also have to think about the billions of souls in our Alliance systems. Add to it the populations of all of our adversaries. There is so much happening right now that it could never be comprehended. Right now a little boy in Laos is looking at the stars and dreaming of his own farm and the livestock he may one day own. We will never know his name or anything about him. Also thousands of light-years away a young Sungata girl is dreaming of becoming a performer in the theater. She is oblivious to the war and she will probably never leave her planet not know anything of Earth. She may never know the name of our planet.

The point is she has too much going on in her life to even comprehend the major events of her day. The boy doesn’t have the ability to even think about understanding his nation state, let alone the world or galaxy. I argue that the only way you could decipher one minute in your city was to go without eating and sleeping and any other activity other than just gathering and deciphering information.

Now that you have a grasp exactly how big the galaxy is. And how immense it is. I want you to remember there is always someone bigger, faster, smarter, better looking, funnier etc. Oh, and the galaxy is twice as big as you think it is. In fact it is two times larger than that, maybe bigger.

Heck stood before me, his muscular frame visibly stiff. His jaw locked tight. He cleared his throat and said, “I don’t know what to think of all this.”

“I know there is a lot to gather here.” I sympathetically interjected. I am more prepared than most to handle this information. That could not have been said a few years ago when I was first volunteered into the Infantry. But the events of my life since then have made me believe I know nothing and am surprised by almost nothing.

“You are telling me a galactic Senate has given propriety to the Sungata over our sector of the galaxy because we are a violent uninvolved race who has stolen technologies and mad overtures into other regions of space which we do not belong?”

“In a matter of speaking. I imagine it is much more complex than we realize.”

“Ok, first things first. We need to get this station in position to defend the TDA-Chahorte border and report to Alliance headquarters about your discovery. You realize you have to come up with an explanation of how you obtained this info. If you tell the brass you tortured a woman, the bureaucrats will never let you use the information. How could you do that anyway I thought you had a fling with her?”

It was easy,” I said, “I just imagined that it was admiral Delancy. I’ll just tell them that she was in love with me and could no longer keep her secret from me and then killed herself, because I told her I would never love her again.” My arrogance has no boundaries.

Heck laughed a laugh I hadn’t heard in years. It was intensely deliberate. So much so it was somewhat annoying. If I were a proud man, I might have taken offense to his jocularity. “I don’t think they will buy it, but what the hell. I have to see their faces when you tell them this.”

I’m not sure what he meant by that. I know I am not the most handsome man to ever live but was it to hard to believe a girl could fall in love with me and kill herself? I had another relationships end very badly that almost wound up with my death and may still end that way.

We placed the Station in the coordinates the Chahorte said and activated the weapons systems. These weapons are older and are no longer used by the Chahorte. They now use an electron exciter beam. This electron beam causes a fission explosion on the atomic level be adding electrons to a molecule and causing it to be unstable. It’s very effective and very decisive. That is unless the Sungata figured out through espionage how it worked and outfitted their craft with a shield against it. That’s the bad news. The good news is these specially fitted craft use so much energy on their shields that they can’t use conventional shielding. That’s where this station comes in handy. It has an isomer beam array. It converts Isolinear energy and hardens it into a beam. After the beam is switched off, it dissipates it. It has no real range save the accuracy of the sensors. The down side for the Chahorte is its extremely violent and very painful if it hits you. Basically it punches holes in things and when it hits flesh it is similar to a white-hot sword piercing your skin. You wouldn’t bleed to death but you would die slowly in a lot of pain.

The Sungata will be surprised when they come this way again. The time it took to get the station to its new coordinates was remarkably short. I could not help but laugh at the thought of people on Earth watching the moon disappear all of a sudden. The Chahorte sent a shuttle to get us back to Earth after we got the station in place. They would have got it themselves but the station was protected by a DNA sequencer which only allowed people with a certain DNA signature to enter. In fact it was set up as a defense for Earth against the Chahorte in case they tried to forcibly bring their brethren home. If they tried to access the station, the automatic defenses would activate.

The Chahorte gave Heck the info he needed to deactivate the system once we were on board. He didn’t bother to tell me these things until we were on our way back to Earth. It’s just one of those questions you just don’t think to ask. The logic was our ancestors DNA was the code used so we should be able to access the security system. Only a Chahorte would be able to deactivate the system. If we couldn’t deactivate it we would be dead and not know the difference anyway.

When we reached Earth, we were greeted by the Chancellor’s Envoy. Most people had never seen a Chahorte vessel without being destroyed, so when one appeared outside the Congress of Nations in Australia, people took notice. The diplomat escorted us from the ship to the Chancellor’s office and I swear he didn’t shut up the whole way. “Glad to see you made it back safely, we heard of your success. Even when the moon disappeared we weren’t worried. I can’t wait to read your report. Anyway when Major Lopez made it back he told us of his success and what your mission was…”

“I’m sorry to interrupt but what did you just say? Major Lopez? He did what? Major?” I know I said it was hard to surprise me anymore but apparently if the circumstances are right it is exceedingly easy. So much so, I could barely keep my feet moving.

“Oh yes, after his success negotiating with the Chahorte he was promoted.”

“What...I mean what? What? He did what? That sanctimonious son of a--”
“Balls, at ease.” Heck ordered, without even changing stride or inflection. I obeyed knowing he meant business.

“Yeah, we were all pretty proud of him” said the Envoy. “Everyone is waiting to hear from you. It’s all very exciting.”

By this time we reached the waiting are of the Congress hearing room where the top brass and the top politicians have gathered to hear our report. “How could you just stand there and listen to what that guy was saying about what went on with the Chahorte?” I asked Heck.

“I thought you were the one who did not want recognition?’

He had me there. But it was not so much that I wanted recognition but I couldn’t stand that little prick taking all the credit when it was our life on the line. I mean I tortured a girl I was fond of. “But…”

“I know what you’re thinking,” Heck interrupted “Don’t worry about it he will not amount to anything that maters riding on the coattails of others.” He had a point, I guess, it’s just what is important to you, or you have to decide what is really important, or these things will make you crazy, trust me.

The doors opened and a flood of people poured out. Reporters, mid-level bearcats and politicians followed by Major Lopez. Everybody was glad-handing him congratulating him with words like Hero and Savior being thrown about. I was seething. He looked my way and his cocky half-smile and his squinty eyes disappeared and he got a look on his face like someone hit him with a stupid stick. I guess he didn’t think we would make it back. Just as fast as they shuffled him out of the room they shuffled us in.

Seated before us the Chancellor, in the middle and two of his advisors on either side of him. Field Marshal Brooks and Admiral Delancy were to his left and Field Marshal Deerfield to his right. There were also other dignitaries’, senators and representatives of the Dalradion. The Chancellor rose as we entered and motioned us to stand before them. It was moments like this I missed the battlefield. The worst that could happen to you is death. Here, you never could tell what would happen, politicians are very unpredictable.

I started to speak eager to relate my experiences to the gathering when the Chancellor himself interrupted me. This was very unusual; His aides often opened any proceedings and announced what he would say before he said it himself. “Gentleman, if you would hold a moment, I believe you are acquainted with Director of Military Instrumentality.” I could not believe he was now the head of the civilian military office, bad guys seem to always finish first. “Director Deerfield I believe you wished to address the panel before you disembark the proceedings.”

“Thank you Chancellor, these men disobeyed a direct order from my office when I was the Field Marshal for Earths Defense. They jeopardized the envoy I sent to make peaceful contact with the Chahorte. They have been willfully insubordinate and regardless of their previous records or commendations they have endangered the Earth, the Union and the TDA. I cannot stress to you enough how dangerous they are and they need to be removed from the military and put in immure to limit the influence they have carried.” This may seem like a strong speech, but remember Deerfield spoke softly and out of the side of his mouth. He was hunched over the table with his fingers laced together and not really looking anyone in the eye. His slim frame looked odd in his civilian clothes as if he were a little boy in his daddy’s clothes except he is in his sixties.

“Thank you Director. I can assure you and all those present that these men will have the appropriate comeuppance, according with their actions.” With the Chancellors words Deerfield got out of his chair and headed for the door. “One more thing, Director, panel members, Gentleman I want to remind you that this is a confidential discovery and after we adjourn these proceedings will not be spoken of.” The director nodded, as did we all, and he left. “Now would you gentlemen like to speak?”

I could tell Heck was about to say something but I had reached my boiling point and blurted out, “How could you promote that Jackass? He almost caused irrevocable damage to the relations with the Chahorte. And Major Lopez, I mean if this is the decision making going on its no wonder the war has lasted as long as it has.” I fumed and crossed my arms. Then it occurred to me by the look on the faces before me that I just might have stepped in it. It was very surprising what happened next.

A round of laughter from the gathering and the voice of a man coming from the side, turned out it was the Prime Minister, said “Chancellor, I don’t think he approves of your personnel decisions.”

All the while the Chancellor looked squarely at me and didn’t blink. After the Prime Minister spoke he halved giggled and broke a smile. “I know Deerfield is incompetent. After we heard about his mission, we knew we had to get him out of authority. He was promoted to command Earth’s defenses because, and it was rather short sighted of us, we didn’t anticipate it being very influential. So as a civilian director he can’t give orders to anyone. Effectively out of the loop. As for the Major he is on permanent assignment to the Directors office his aide. Also out of the loop. Remember you have to take the victories anyway you can get them.” His candor was refreshing and surprising I felt like an ass. All I saw was the fact these men were in higher positions after royally screwing things up. What I didn’t see was the grater good. “Now I can see why they call you Balls,” I think I blushed. “I have to let you know official reprimands will be placed into your personal files for disobeying a direct order. Now tell us how you saved the Alliance.”

This time Heck spoke up quickly, adverting any attempt I had made to speak. He detailed the ordeal in some detail including some things I hadn’t heard of to this point then it was my turn. I had to relate to the group the details of Charlotte’s death and the Earth’s curious diplomatic status in the galaxy. Besides a few chuckles when I described how Charlotte was so in love with me that she killed herself, I think it came off believable and serious.

Part 37

I found myself on the way to the Diplomatic Planet Agremantiza. We previously never heard of this plant. We were woefully unaware of the depth of the fabric of the political tapestry of the universe. This planet is a massive venue for political discourse. It is basically one big garden with structures placed artistically throughout the landscape. There are massive megalithic buildings that house the main debates and many small buildings that scatter the countryside. Most house diplomats. Some are places to eat and there are temples based on every faith imaginable from the thousands of species that gather there for diplomatic meetings.

The main building was the Chambre of Grouton. A massive structure that can handle the two diplomats allowed from each system and their aides, along with a massive staff and visitors. The building was built; in fact the whole planet was designed, in honor of Luctous Grouton. He was a leader of a race called Toukerans. In a nutshell, there was a massive war some one thousand years ago. Grouton sued for peace and brought delegates to a barren bombed out planet to bring peace. This was the planet. In the preceding centuries the different governments built this place that could rival the most mythically revered Greek gardens.

Upon reaching the planet we were escorted to the Chancery. We waited forever. “Heck, why didn’t the Chahorte mention this to us? Why don’t they have any representative here?”

“They are very xenophobic, you know that. Maybe they just don’t want to get involved.”

“I guess, I hope we can get answers. Soon.”

It was then the office door opened and a being that looked very much like a human came out. He was taller and thicker and his skin was an ashy gray. His eyes went from yellow to black depending on the light. He walked over to us and introduced himself. “I am the Chargé d’ Affaires, you have arrived while the diplomats are in recess. There are no other officials present to hear you.”

“We want to get some help concerning our Alliance and the war that is going on” Heck responded.

“If you would put your request in writing I will review your case. The next session is due to start next week. I will let you know what course of action is available to you. You understand that since your government is not recognized by the council there is little available to you.”

“What kind of outfit do you people run here, we need assistance and you are going to just advise us?” I know I was a bit out of line, but, my temper flares from time to time...

“Your race has a reputation for hostility. I can see where it comes from.” The Charge said rather arrogantly.

“Now wait a minute….” I started to say but Heck put his arm across my chest, as if I needed to be held back, and interrupted me.

“Thank you for your time, do you have any temporary lodging where I can fill this out and we can get some rest, it has been a long trip?” Heck asked, as if he were exceptionally glad to be here.

“Of course I will have an Honor Guard escort you to temporary quarters and we will meet at 7655.” The Charge then got up and walked out as a brightly decorated solider type entered and asked us to follow him. I thought it was a bit unusual there were no pleasantries exchanged to end our meetings but I thought it was probably just their custom and we weren’t used to it.

Heck spent the next several hours filling out a mountain of paperwork that was as thick as a volume of the Oxford English Dictionary. I spent the time sleeping on the most comfortable bed I have ever imagined existed. I woke up refreshed and felt like the years of war had washed away from my body. Heck came to me in a huff. “I’m not sure how these clocks work but I think we are going to be late if we don’t get our asses in gear.”

It took us some time but we found the office where we met the charge. We met him on the way out as we were on the way in. I call the Charge him even though I don’t know what the sex of this being really is. He just looks like a male, so he it is. “I had given up on you two. This type of behavior is not well regarded amongst the diplomatic corps. I should make you wait until the next session to hear your plea. I have received an official compliant from your host government; they are protesting your presence here and your attempts to address the council.”

“What host government?” Heck and I said at the same time, looking at each other then our gazes returned directly to the Charge.

“Why the Sungata. You occupy a planet in their territory. The compliant came directly from Overlord Tolouo. I took your mission to the Chancery and the fact of the matter is you are not at war. Your people infested a planet in the Brazeen Empire. Ownership was transferred to the Sungata. Your origins appear to be with the Chahorte. You don’t have a legal claim to be here. None the less the Chancery has decided to hear your claim.” With that the Charge walked away again without a word and took our papers with him.

“That was strange.” I critiqued. “I wonder how the Sungata got word of our petition before we even finished it.”

“It’s obvious someone told them, if we were baseless in our claim then I doubt the leader of the Sungata would have got directly involved so quickly. I wonder when we will hear back form the Charge.”

We took the opportunity to move about the planet size campus. We took note of several architectural similarities to structures on Earth. I could tell Heck was deep in thought. We sat down in a gazebo like structure and took in the mid-afternoon breeze moving across the Square we were in. My own thoughts drifted when we were before the members of the government explaining the delicate situation of the galaxy. If I had told them all of this they most certainly wouldn’t have believed me. Earth a Sungata territory? I guess it would be no different than the British claiming India as part of their Empire even though India existed long before the British decided it would be a fine addition.

A Chancery honor guard interrupted my thought to bring us to the Chambre of Grouton. “The Plenipotentiary has accepted your petition, there is a special session being called to hear this mission. I will escort you to the Chambre.”

“We must have struck a nerve” Heck said, with surprise in his voice. I could not blame him. I was certain we were in for stonewalling on a galactic level. I had no reason to believe otherwise, but here we were on our way to do something I guess with a diplomat, or envoys, or something.

As we moved toward the Chambre the courtyard began to fill. I had seen no shuttles land but people materialized out of thin air on platforms outside of the Chambre. I had heard of teleportation in sci-fi when I was a kid but I never thought I would witness it. The floods of people were pouring into the Chambre doors. I guess we had the entire delegation at our deposal. Instead of leading us into the Chambre, the guard led us to a side building where a dignitary sat calmly at a nondescript desk.

“Come in gentleman.” The man stood and greeted us with a warm smile. He was different than the Charge we had dealt with. More yellow in skin tone but very much human looking. “Please have a seat. The Delegates are going to hear your case and vote on whether our not you may be heard.”

Heck had learned by now he had to speak quickly to keep me from opening my big mouth. He spoke up before I could get my thoughts in order. “I’m not sure I understand the process here. Our case is to be decided before you hear us?”

“Yes, since your government is not recognized. It is impossible for you to have an audience before the delegation. The Sungata First Secretary did not give you a favorable recommendation.”

“I wonder why, we are here to challenge their claim to our system.” I interjected.

“It was not that, it was your actions since your arrival. He cited you were rude, vulgar and threatening. That was his impression when you met with him.”

Heck and I were dumb-struck. “You mean the person we met with was a Sungata diplomat?” I asked.

“Yes. Your dispute is with them so you were sent to their representative.”

“I’m sorry but I didn’t get your name?” I asked.

“I am minister Pousht. I am an official of the planet Agremantiza I was born here and raised to be in this position.”

“A genetically engineered bureaucrat?” Heck asked.

“I guess in a manor of speaking, that would be correct.”

I stood and looked the minister in his slightly small eyes and said, “I could live for another hundred years and spend them all here on this planet studying your diplomatic system and I could never fully understand it.” I thought I had him there. My flippant remark had to be a showstopper.

Without missing a beat and he was totally serious when he said, “That is why my kind were genetically engineered.”

I could not help but think that all the years we had fought the concept of genetic engineering that the rest of the Galaxy was implementing it with regularity. I also couldn’t help but feel bad for the people native to this planet. Each was engineered for a specific purpose and they were highly adept at that purpose. They were basically slaves. They were not being held against their will but by their will. Every fiber of their being would only let them do one thing. They could do nothing else. They wouldn’t know how. Then again we are all slaves to our environment. At birth we are slaves to what are parents are then we are slaves to the decisions we make in our life. Slaves to our limitations.

Take me for instance. I am a slave in the military. I didn’t want to be here. I could not change the fact I couldn’t become a scientist, or whom I fell in love with. I was doomed by my limitations and by my bad decisions.

After seeming to wait forever, an aide to a particularly queer looking alien came to notify us of a pending decision. I can’t remember for the life of me what the race was called, or their system name. I only remember that their planet was always in darkness and their skin was transparent. On this planet of perpetual sunshine they wore heavy dark cloaks and full-face masks that didn’t reflect light. It was as if you were looking into a hole when you looked at them. Apparently they had some pull. They seemed to be rather high up the chain in the diplomatic hierarchy.

“Gentleman, a decision has been reached. The council will send inspectors to the region to gather the veracity of the situation. In accordance to the bylaws, this is highly irregular. Enough of the delegation felt that since you have inhabited the system for so long that you should receive some consideration. If the inspectors find cause, you will be granted an audience with the Consulate General. If they agree with you they will bring your case to the full assembly.”

Of all the things that have caused a binding feeling in my admittedly limited brain lately this one was a whopper. “You mean we have to wait for an inspection, a report, a hearing, an audience and even then things could still go against us?”

“That is a rather pedestrian way of looking at the situation, but yes. I rather think the counsel is being very generous considering you don’t belong here and are invaders to a foreign system. Add to that your part in causing the extinction of a race and you can see why people have a hard time hearing your case.” Without waiting for a response from us, the aide turned and left, he seemed irked that we were not on our knees thanking him for the opportunity.

Heck had remained rather silent the whole time, in fact he had been rather quiet since he heard the delegation was meeting, that is until now. “I know what I have to do, what we have to do.” I turned and looked right at him and he didn’t return my look, he just kept looking at the Chancery building.

“What do you mean?”

“The Overlord is here, we are here. We have weapons on our shuttle, they don’t. We are at war, this planet is not.”

“I don’t follow you. What are you getting at?”

“We have to kill the Overlord.”

“I’m sorry what? What? The air on this planet must be off. I thought you said we had to assassinate the overlord.”

“No I didn’t say we had to assassinate the Overlord. I said kill him. We are at war. He is the enemy leader. He must be killed. Listen, right now the Overlord has to be planning a massive strike. He knows because of the information we gave the Counsel, exactly what our strength is and that we are in no position to put up an organized defense. If we kill him now we could delay the attack or cause enough disarray that it could delay any attack long enough for the diplomatic process to continue.”

“I can’t say I agree with you. There has to be some other alternative.”

“I tell you what, the Chahorte have a seat on the Council. They have left it vacant because they don’t wish to communicate with the outside. If you can get a diplomat to convene a special hearing and get help immediately, we may not have to do this but you have to hurry.”

“You mean you want me to go by myself?”

“You have to. I am going to stay here. If the Overlord tries to leave or you fail, I am going to kill him.”

“They did not respond well to me last time. Besides you have the genetically engineered brain to communicate better with them.”

Heck smiled and looked mercifully at me. “You’ll do fine. I believe in you.”

To this day I cannot figure out why he said that to me. “I’ll do my best”

“Keep your radio on, I might need you in a hurry. Use the fastest drive setting on the Shuttle. You can get to Chahorte in four hours. I will send a message and tell them you’re on the way.” Heck grabbed a data pad and typed some info on it. “Give this to the Regent we spoke to before. She will know what to do.”

With that I turned and headed out to the shuttle. I couldn’t help but think I was being set up somehow.

Part 38

Now I understand in the annals of the galaxy we Earthlings are regarded as gypsies; particularly ill tempered ones at that. The consensus was we had no business getting an audience with the Counsel. We moved into an area of space and took over a planet, which caused the death of the original inhabitants. Then we warred amongst ourselves for millennia. After we became a cohesive people, our first peaceful contact with an alien race turned disastrous. In fact, this whole war could have ended years ago.

When we first started looking for allies, it was just by chance we ran into the Seedics; a very sophisticated race, benevolent yet powerful. They felt for us and were debating amongst themselves whether or not to come into the war. Had they done that there would have been no way the Sungata could have kept up. An odd custom evolved over the years; once we started rediscovering each other one commodity began being traded, as we wanted to make peace with watch other; chocolate.

As a gesture of good will, chocolate was offered to emissaries and ambassadors. This tradition continued to this day. The Dalradians loved it they had nothing like it. The Seedic thought it was the best thing they ever had; until they died. I would later find out that we brought the Coco plant from our home world. To the Chahorte, chocolate causes a wee bit of a drug problem. In fact it would not be a stretch to say that our whole world is a bunch of drug addicts. It could be assumed that chocolate may have been the reason we fought each other for hundreds of years. Something to think about anyway.

It seems chocolate is a poison to the Seedic. It acts slowly and is extremely addictive. In a matter of months, they were producing their own and a few months after that they were all dead. As it turns out, the consensus was in the galactic community that the Seedic was going to reject us so we killed them. That couldn’t be further from the truth but we didn’t know others were judging us.

That is the thing I found most disconcerting, we were being watched and judged by an entity, a governmental body, we did not know existed. That kind of thing always bothered me, but it is a truth of life. You are judged by criteria that you didn’t know existed all the time. You take tests that you don’t know you’re in. People judge you with out telling you and then pass judgment and don’t tell you that either. Live long enough and you figure out you control very little of your own life. You are constantly caught in a wash of other people’s decisions.

That’s where I found myself. Not just on the grand scope of Earth vs. the Galaxy but me versus my own good sense. I looked at my one black hand, and thought about all the people who I have known who died in this war. Then I thought about how long I had been in the service. I had totally lost track of time since I had been in the service. I felt this urge to run off in the transport and find a little piece of the Galaxy and forget this ever happened. Now that the Galaxy was much bigger to me, now that I knew how many races there were. Most of the Galaxy was at peace; surely I could find me a slice.

Part 39

When I landed the Regent was waiting for me. She came right up to me and in all her brilliance took the pad from my hand without me even offering it. “You need to return to Earth. There is a battle to prepare for.” The Regent said, while handing me another data pad. “Take this to your commanders, the space station while be sent back to the TDA territory and our Fleet will be escorting it. An envoy is being sent to Agremantiza.”

“I understand, I will return as soon as I go and pick up Heck.”

“That will not be necessary; Heck has killed the Sungata Overlord and is currently in custody. The Council is ruling on whether or not to send peace keeping troops to your sector to end the violence.”

“I have to go get him, he wouldn’t leave me there. Heck would want me to come get him.”

With my plea I was sure that the Regent would not only send me to save Heck but also send troops with me. Instead she brought up the information on the data pad I gave her and returned it to me. I looked at it and it read don’t let Ball’s or anyone else try and save me. Figures, Heck would give his life to give the Alliance a few extra moments to save Earth; an Earth that would treat him like a leper if it knew he was a hybrid. I nodded and said, “I’ll do as you say. Hopefully you will find a receptive audience to end this conflict, Good Luck.” The Regent returned my good wishes and shook my hand. For the first time I looked her square in the eye and I saw pain in her eyes, it was then that my usual denseness evaporated for a moment and I put all the peaces together. Heck and the Regent had to have discussed this plan before. I am not sure exactly how long I was out and how long they were alone together. She had feelings for Heck and she knew he was not coming back.

I was on my way back to Earth when I thought of sacrifice and how any times Heck saved my life. I may have been decorated many times for heroism but I didn’t believe my own press, I knew I was a coward. Chances were that Earth would be caught in a horrendous battle and millions would die. It would take months even years for even the best equipped armada to make their way from the Sungata territory through all the TDA outposts and bases to Earth.

Earth is the key. The Dalradian is not much of a military threat. If they went after them first it would be a hard fight just to give the Alliance a bloody nose. No, they would have to go right for the heart; Earth. Our planetary defenses were imposing. Even after fighting all the way to Earth they would have to get through the system defenses. The whole System from Xena to Mercury had defenses. Plasma cannons, automated runabouts and static force fields with independent generators. We Earthlings are nothing if not paranoid; possibly another side effect of being drug addicts.

Well that sealed it for me; I was going to take off. Earth didn’t need me. Command had all the information they needed. When the Chahorte Fleet showed up they would figure out what was going on. What is one more body? I would probably be killed anyway. If I went back to Earth they would want their grand hero to lead the troops into this glorious battle. Well I’m not going to be their huckleberry.

I decided it’s my life I’ll do as I please. I set a course for the shuttle to take me to Agremantiza; I was going to save Heck. I didn’t care what anyone said. It was my life if I was going to die I wanted to go out trying to save someone who was more important to humanity than myself. Saving Heck turned out to be a little easier than I anticipated.

Part 40

The honor guard on Agremantiza was just that, an honor guard. It was made up of mostly politician’s children and soldiers exceptional at drilling. I was able to land and make my way to the inner part of the city with absolutely no one stopping me or even alerted to my presence. At one point I was behind a structure watching the people go by waiting to gather some information on where Heck was being held. I overhead a broadcast that was painting us in a rather bad light.

It had people debating, one person on the broadcast said “After centuries of peace on this planet these vermin come here and viciously murder the leader of an esteemed member nation, it is reprehensible.”

Another voice said, “Even during the worst wars member nations avoided violence on this planet, it is how we are able to have this atmosphere. Dignitaries have been able to come here without fear. Now how can anyone come here with full trust?”

The broadcast went on like that. It seems the debate was not over how bad an act Heck committed but who gets custody. Some wanted to turn Heck over to the Sungata. Others debated that the act took place where intergalactic law takes precedent and he should be held under those laws. Still other suggested a neutral party, an arbitrator of sorts.

Anyway it was presented; it was obvious that Heck’s act was considered deplorable. Then on the monitor was a live shot of Heck sitting outside of the Chamber of Grouton! Unguarded! I walked to a structure near the Chamber and saw Heck sitting on a bench. I stepped away from my corner and waved at him. Heck stood and walked over to me.

“Why are they letting you walk around unguarded?” I asked.

Heck pulled down his collar and showed me a strap around his neck. “If I leave the planet this collar will laser my head right off. Why are you here?”

“I came to save you, Earth needs you.”

Heck looked at my coyly and asked, “Do you have the data pad the Regent gave you?”

I could not believe what he asked, how he could have known. I have become numb to things I don’t understand and just handed Heck the data pad from my pocket. Heck studied it and pulled out a device from his pocket, entered some information and after a few beeps the collar popped off and he said “Let’s go, they’ll be coming.”

Apparently no members of the council trust each other so all members were given the security codes for the planet. One of the codes was the one to unlock Heck’s collar. It was given to the Chahorte delegation as soon as they made their intentions known that they were coming back. The Regent knew I would come to get him and sent along the information. I was set up again. I don’t know why it still surprises me.

Heck explained to me that the council is not as cohesive as they appear. Some of the more “uncivilized” races were privately impressed at the guile it took to “off” the Sungata Overlord. Several diplomats approached Heck saying if the council does send peace keepers they will not contribute troops, which is good since they were the most military capable.

During our flight back to Earth we received a communication from command to head to SB-359. In recognition of my heroic rescue of a Union citizen, I was given a battlefield promotion to Colonel; I was to take command of the Omega Battalion. Me, in command; can you imagine? My head was once again whirling.

“Congratulations, Balls.” Heck said while trying to shake my hand.

I ignored his gesture and went to the controls and killed the engine. “Before we go any further there are a few things I want to clear up. Number one, I am not a hero. I am a coward who fell into situations that made me look good. The only reason I have never said anything is because the truth would sound so bizarre. Second, I have no business being in command.” Heck tried to interrupt me but I silenced him by putting up my open palm. “Third, why the hell don’t you have rank or why doesn’t command recognize you as a member of the military? Tell me what’s going on, I know you know more than you let on.”

“Well let’s address your concerns in reverse order. I don’t have rank because I am officially just an adviser. I retired some time ago. I know you don’t believe in yourself, but I have known many heroes in my time and the most important ones are the ones who let themselves become heroes. But you are going to have to concentrate on the task at hand. You are going to have thousands of men and women looking at you for inspiration. Never mind tactics or guidance to the average soldier these things don’t mean much they will do as they are told it is your aura that will lift their spirits. Command isn’t always about strategy. You don’t always find the best leaders are the best tacticians. The best leaders inspire their troops. Like you did at SB-299 in the garbage shoot. Those were green men. And even though you had no idea what you were doing they believed in you and they fought hard for you.”

I felt great. Heck really thought a lot about this so I knew he just wasn’t talking out of his ass. I put my black hand on Heck’s shoulder and said thanks. I completely forgot about my questions about Heck’s past. I was pretty full of myself at the moment. Then a moment of reality hit again. “But Heck, Omega Battalion? They are elite; they need someone in command who can lead strategy wise.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be right there. Command will tell you where and what you’ll be doing. The only thing you have to do is to tell your division commanders where to go and let them figure out what to do from there. Remember just ask a lot of question about what is going on and always ask for more info.”

That’s funny because that is all I ever wanted, and I could never get. When I was in Intelligence I was certain there were very few people who actually knew everything that was going on, if anyone knew at all. I knew what I was supposed to know when I was an analyst, but I didn’t know why it was important. I could tell you it was probably like a person who works in a large factory that doesn’t know what product they make. He doesn’t know exactly what part he makes, all he knows is how to make that part, and he makes it well.

Once at SB-359, well, it was odd. When we docked a Lieutenant and a Sergeant boarded our transport and saluted me sharply. They introduced themselves as my aides. They brought me a new uniform complete with the appropriate accoutrements. I must admit I looked sharp, very impressive, and I must say intimidating. While looking in the mirror I realized I had no hair. I was buzzed bald. I don’t remember getting a hair cut; actually I don’t recall thinking about any vanity items since I lost my arm. I also looked old. Deep long lines from my nose to my chin and my skin looked leathered. My eyes were sunken in and my body had a noticeable lack of fat. I saw scars that I didn’t know I had.

“Fits you well.” Heck said; I wasn’t sure if he meant the uniform or the rank.

I adjusted the silver birds on my shoulders and turned to Heck. “Time to see my troops.”

“Sounds good, the Admiral is going to greet you. Remember to ask for permission to come aboard.”

As the transport door slowly lowered to the floor a yeoman whistled an alert and the troops standing in formation came to attention. I may have not been a real military man but I knew this level of pageantry was unusual for non-fleet personnel and anyone lower than a General. Across the deck an Admiral had a full head of steam heading straight for me. I might have shied away under other circumstances but I tried to remember what Heck told me, my men were watching and they needed me to be a leader. The Admiral stood fast and saluted me, again highly irregular. I returned his salute and he jutted out his hand. “Colonel it is a pleasure to meet you. Do you want your briefing first or do you wish to inspect the troops?”

For some reason the question created a lump in my throat. It took all I had to push out a few words. “Let me see my men.” With that the Admiral turned and I followed the short walk to the men in formation. I walked up and down the ranks and went back to the front. My aide anticipated my requirements and pushed a crate to the front for me to stand.

“Men, women, soldiers; I have fought with some of you. Some of you have saved my ass in the past. We have all bled in this war. We have all lost friends and loved ones in this war. Well, I’m here to tell you judgment day is nigh. The war will be over soon. No matter what happens we will defend Earth, the Union and the Alliance to the last man. You are the elite. I expect more of you than any other soldier in the Infantry. We’ve been at this a while, I know you are tired, I know that the losses mount up and it hurts. Well the hurt has only started. It’s going to get a lot worse before it gets better.

If anyone can not only survive, but also thrive, it is Omega Battalion. I promise you if you give your all and leave it all on the battlefield, you will feel no pain. Ali doesn’t want you to sacrifice yourself. I never tried to sacrifice myself the situation always lent for me to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. I will promise to get you in the right place at the right time so you don’t have to sacrifice yourselves, because I know you will. I see it in your eyes, you are warriors. Look after your fellow soldiers. Don’t let them fall. Make them succeed. You will do me proud. We will be victorious. We will die well, and we will live even better. That is an order.” With that I stepped off my platform, as my aide yelled attention and dismissed. This was followed by a roar from the troops. I think I wet my pants.

Part 41

I followed Admiral Thomas down a corridor to a briefing room. There seated at the head of the tale was Capt. Marcus Julius. “Marcus” I said as loud and giddy as a thirteen year old girl. “I thought you were dead.’’ I said, as I shook his hand.

“Well I guess I can’t talk you into becoming my Security Officer now.” Marcus said with a smile on his disfigured face.

I leaned into him and said quietly, “Don’t be so sure”

Admiral Thomas began a briefing that detailed the particulars of the next mission. I tried I really did, but I just could not focus on what he was saying. My thoughts drifted to this fetching blonde I saw on the flight deck while giving my speech. She was good looking but she didn’t have the overt sensuality that Admiral Delancy has. You know you always have to compare women with each other don’t you.

Heck leaned over and whispered, “Stop thinking about the blonde and pay attention.”

Amazing, Heck always seemed to know what was going on. It was a good thing he snapped me out of my trance because moments later the Admiral called me out to recognize my contributions to the Alliance and encouraging me to bring our troops to victory. Then an alert came over the intercom. The Admiral went to the panel on the wall and spoke into it. He turned to the table and spoke.

“Talks have broken down. The Sungata have prevailed. Peace keeping troops will join their forces and are deploying to invade; we have to assume they are heading straight for Earth. Ladies and gentleman you know what to do.” With that, the room started to clear like someone farted.

I was almost running to keep up with Heck as I could tell we were going to a massive deployment. “Heck, Heck what’s going on?”

Heck looked at me with a look that was half proud older brother and half irritated mother. “We are deploying to invade Sungata.”

“I’m sorry, we’re what?”

“You should remember this it was your plan after all.”

“Really, why is it that even when I am in the loop I’m out of it?”

“Can’t help you there, Balls; maybe you should be in the moment. When there is a task at hand follow through and think of nothing else.

Part 42

The plan was: While the Sungata and the peacekeepers were heading to Earth we hoped to evade there advance and attack the Sungata home world. They named it operation Big Balls in honor of me. We would have three destroyers and two cruisers and Omega Battalion. It would be an effective counter punch but before the Sungata punched us. According to the Chahorte, the agreed a-pun Intel on the Alliance was that we could put up a strong defense but would be highly unlikely we could put together a sustained offensive advance. They’re right and that’s why Heck came up with a decisive attack. One shot, one advance for a decisive blow, to cripple their ability to wage war.

Our goal is not to win but to get them to stop. It worked for the fledgling United States in their revolutionary war. It worked for Afghanistan against the USSR, it worked for the Vietnamese vs. the United States. None of them won against the larger powers but they caused enough problems that it made waging war to problematic.

A lot of the casualties would be civilian which was unsettling for some, but it was their minds we had to change. They had to become unsupportive of continued aggression. Of course it could also stiffen their resolve and we would be doomed. We would try to limit our attack to military targets and industry that supported the war effort.

You would think a ride through space would be nice and smooth, but no it is bumpy as hell. With all the dark matter and space dust we would get knocked around like a beach ball. When you go slow no problem but once you get up to light speed it starts to shutter. I have never; ever got my stomach used to the space dance.

Once in sight of the Sungata home world I really expected a massive defense force, but there was nothing. We saw remnants of bases and orbital satellite cannons. No fighters no defense ships to orbital bases. They were defenseless from a space ship attack. We loaded up our landing transports with me shouting inspirational things like, “go get ‘em boys,” and “Give them hell.” I boarded mine and we released from the ships.

We floated there for what seemed to be hours. We had to wait for the bombardment to start and finish. The second the Fleets guns went silent we would drop. In my transport I tried to ignore it but I could feel the eyes of the men as they watched my every move. They must have been looking for some secret, some characteristic that they could tape into to be a hero. The irony is all of the men in this elite force were braver than me. All of them would have done what I did by accident, on purpose.

The massive cruisers fired their devastating Anti-matter bombs. The bombs were propelled out of the ship with a nuclear explosion that sent the bombs rocketing to earth at 138,000 Kph. The bombs were crystal containers with guidance systems on board and a payload of antimatter. When antimatter hits matter that has not been treated, it causes a violent reaction. Even in the smallest proportion. When an eyedropper full of antimatter hits, matter things go boom, very bad. The canisters are about as big as a bowling ball. And our ships can drop a lot of them. When they hit the ground and the crystal shatters and the antimatter goes flying; somewhere between forty and one hundred meters in all directions.

The bombardment finished and just like that, we were hurled toward teraferma. I really hated that part; you just dropped without any warning. I am a person who learns from past mistakes. I didn’t eat anything today, because I knew the drop with the prospect of an arduous battle would be more than my stomach could take. Frankly, I don’t care if I ever see the contents of my stomach again. In fact I wish the scientists could perfect the nutrition pill so I would never have to eat again.

The door to the transport drooped and against my better judgment I led the troops out onto the ground sure, that we were going to meet a hail of fire and I would be the first to die. Once we were all out it became clear that what we encountered was in no way going to be what we expected. Most of us stood silent we allowed our rifle's to lower even. The planet was decimated.

Sungata is made up of essentially two main continents. We bombarded the western continent. Antimatter bombs are expensive and hard to make. They had been used sparingly until now. As it stands, we had an interest in getting the territories we attacked. Until now, we had no interest in keeping or holding Sungata so the brass decided that it was time to unleash our most devastating weapon. It is also safe to say our scientists underestimated the power and destructive force they contain.

We might have over done it a little? The scientists and Intelligence agreed that we should use our entire payload on one continent and then set up a temporary base to launch sorties against the eastern continent. Turns out setting up a base would be easy. Moments after our assessment we started seeing a smattering of Sungata coming out of the rubble. We brought our weapons back to a ready position, not that we would need them.

They looked like a perfectly pleasant people. Heck and I were the first to actually see a Sungata, so I could understand the fascination the men had when they started to see the people. Like I said, they looked a lot like us, more grey and shifting eyes, but not as terrifying without their imposing armor. Something amazing happened, the men, without direction, slung their weapons and began to help their sworn enemies dig out of the rubble. There was grumbling from some of the more hardcore veterans who I am sure would have rather killed the survivors than help. But they calmed down with a sharp glance from me. Heck and I jumped right in and began to help dig out.

Our logistics team started setting up temporary housing that was supposed to go to the men but most of them insisted that the shelters be allocated to the Sungata. I agreed and we rationed our supplies and divvied them up to the peoples. I had to make a hard decision. You see I was in command on the planet surface. We had a job to finish, surely word had gotten to the Sungata fleet and they had to at least send some help back. We had two maybe three days before we had to bug out.

As a humanitarian it was a hard call to make. We had to attack. I called the men to order and laid it on the line. “I know you want to help, you are good people and I am proud of you. However, we cannot wait any longer we have to attack the eastern continent; if we wait too long they may be able to put up a stout defense. I refuse to loose any men because we were helping the enemy get back on their feet. I can see the pain in some of your eyes. I will commandeer the fleet logistics people to provide aid to these people. But you remember you are warriors and you have a job to do. You may be saving the life of your families by pulling yourselves together and finishing the job. Saddle up.”

With that the men poured into the transports without question. The Logistics Captain put up a compliant to my plan but I didn’t listen. We were off to fight a cornered animal. I didn’t have time to listen to the petty concerns of a man who was more concerned with timetables and schedules than life. The Omega Battalion landed in three major cities on the Eastern Continent. As soon as we departed we were in a fire fight.

Light arms fire was coming from the buildings all around us; it was maddening. Then something dawned on me they weren’t hitting anything. Oh sure the transport was being hit but the men who had taken cover had taken little if any wounded. I called over my aide, Sgt. Douglas. “Sergeant, contact the other groups and verify their status.”

Sgt. Douglas knelt down covering one ear and listened to his communication ear-piece. After a few moments, he reported to me that the other groups were under heavy fire but no casualties. That sealed it, we were fighting amateurs. I opened a channel on my COM-link to all the soldiers. “Men we’re apparently up against a largely civilian force. I cannot justify the wholesale slaughter of these people. Set your 8’s to the lowest setting and lay into them.”

My hope was if an entire battalion opened up with a rate of fire of 3,000 discharges a minute, it might make the resistance pause and think twice. The troops got the “go” command and the firefight became a one-sided turkey shoot. The men zeroed in on where the enemy fire originated and opened fire in that direction. You could see Sungata trying to run but getting mowed down by static pulses. It wouldn’t kill them but most likely it would knock them out. The shooting was accurate and intense. The men didn’t let up until I gave the command to cease-fire. We then started a search in the cities for any leadership or prisoners who could be interrogated; moreover, any data or intelligence that could be beneficial.

Shortly after the search began, I was presented my first prisoner, Governor Erittis. He seemed eager to cooperate. “I assume you are in command?”

“That’s right” I didn’t want to give him any information until I heard what he knew.

“I would like to surrender; I do not want to have any more people die.”

“You don’t have any regular defense forces here?”

“We had a contingent deployed to Halmadren (the Western Continent), but we haven’t heard from anyone there since the attack began. Our civilian force took up arms but we are not soldiers.”

“I can’t believe you were left defenseless.”
“The war has been costly. In anticipation of the invasion of your planet we threw all our resources into the war effort. Bases were dismantled and every soldier we had was sent to the Armada. We got word that you might attack but I don’t think they anticipated the bombardment that happened.”

I stood and assimilated the information. Heck tapped me on the back and reminded me he was there. This whole time I didn’t look to him once for guidance I finally stood on my own two feet and didn’t make an ass of myself. “They knew we were coming, you have to hand it to the Luntare they have great intelligence. You know what this means don’t you?”

“They are not sending any troops back here.”

“Right, they are going to try and exterminate us. Regardless of the losses they would take on their own world, they wanted to wipe us out.”

“They didn’t figure we could damage them that much, we are in trouble aren’t we.”

Heck had had let me run the show up ‘till then but at that point he let loose. He flipped on the COM and yelled, “Abort all missions, abort I repeat abort, all personnel head to the closest transport, we have to evac immediately. Sergeant Douglas open a link to the Fleet.”

“I have the Fleet, sir.”

“Admiral Thomas prepare for departure, send word to Earth that they are facing an extinction force, regardless if there are peacekeepers or not the Sungata have there own agenda, out.”

The Admiral rippled rather somberly, “Aye.”

Moments later we were back on our way to Earth. Our mission was in every sense a success, but the Sungata changed the limits of the engagement and now it was a war for existence. They had committed to full war; they wanted to wipe us out. We had successfully docked with the ship. The Admiral told us they sent the message but there is no way to know if it was received. We may not make it back in time.

I told the men to rest up and get some chow. They were going to need all of their energy soon. No matter what happened to Earth we would be engaging the enemy. I followed Heck to the Admiral’s cabin where we discussed the situation with the captains of the various vessels and Admiral Thomas.

Part 43

Admiral Thomas stood and walked over to a cabinet and pulled out a box of cigars and put one in his mouth. He gestured to those gathered offering one to anyone who wanted one. He cleared his throat after he lit his cigar and spoke. “So we are going to fight a grave battle, against an enemy willing to destroy their whole way of life to eliminate us.” He took a protracted draw of his cigar and looked at it admiringly as exhaled the grey smoke from his nostrils. “Well, I guess we have no other option than to commit to total warfare. I think we should keep all fighters on standby alert. Colonel, I fear your troops may be sitting on their hands until we find you a battlefield. Get your ships ready. Dismissed.”

Admiral Thomas left the cabin and went to his quarters to rest up. The only people left in the cabin were me, Marcus and Heck. “Well looks like it’s up to you fleet boys eh, Marcus?”

“It is always up to us, you Infantry boys would be lost without us.” Marcus said while getting up and slapping me on the back. “I got to get back to my ship, the Manalo is always in battle ready condition but they get a little jittery without me. Hey, Balls, don’t earn anymore medals, save some for the rest of us.”

“I heard they wanted to make you an Admiral?” I asked.

Marcus smiled and stretched his scared check. “Maybe when I retire, catch you boys later.”

Heck took one of Admiral Thomas’s cigars and handed one to me. “I don’t Smoke.” I protested.

“If you are going to be in command you got to have a cigar every now and then.” Heck laughed.

I sat and took a pull of the bitter tasting log, and thought about the recent course of events. A nagging question reappeared in my head. One that Heck danced over earlier. “What do you mean you are retired?”

Heck took a long pull off his cigar and leaned back hard in his chair. He set his cigar down and clasped his hands behind his head. “You know you don’t have the right clearance to hear the information I have to tell you.”

Little did Heck know I had Delta clearance from my days at MI.

“I retired from active duty as General of the Army.”

This I found hard to believe, Heck couldn’t have been thirty five-forty at the most. You can’t be General of the Army unless you are at least in your fifties.

“As you realize, I am genetically enhanced. Well one thing that wasn’t anticipated in genetically enhanced children was their propinquity for the kids to age very slowly. The gestation of the mothers was slow, after birth the older you got the slower you aged. Finally, it seemed I just didn’t get any older. My name Is Henry Edward Charles King.”

“King? You mean J. Thomas King, King?”

“I’m impressed, to most people this stuff is ancient history. The only thing they care about is the hybrid paranoia.”

“So how old are you exactly?”

“You know I am not exactly sure, at least 300 years old.”

“But I thought you were killed?”

“Military Intelligence saved me from an almost certain death. In fact several members of MI are hybrids. The made a habit of getting babies before the general public killed them. Teratongenic manipulation has come far and the aging issue has been resolved. If Hybrids weren’t trying to hide long life would be desirable, but since the goal is to make us as inconspicuous as possible a normal life span is what was achieved.”

“When did you retire?”

“We decided that I should be removed from official military records about 200 years ago. I tried to have a family once, but I couldn’t have children, another failing of teratongenic manipulation, and watching someone you love grow old and die while you stayed young is to tuff. I stayed in the military hoping that someday a stray shot will end it.”

That revelation was so sad that I didn’t know what to say in response. Here is a man who has given everything to a Country, Planet, and Alliance whose populace would execute him on the spot if they knew who he was. His only desire was not fame our fortune just a chance to die. Living in obscurity for millennia, to proud to let him die. Too good to get killed.

“Your buddy is a Hybrid.” Heck interrupted my train of thought.

“Henderson?” for some reason that was the only name that came to mind.

Heck laughed so hard it took him a minute to gain composure enough to talk. “No, Delancy.”

Sometimes you find out information that you just don’t know what to do with. Like when my boyhood best friend told me you had to pee inside girls to get them pregnant. Or my best friends in high school, John and Meagan, said they were getting married, when I didn’t even know they were dating. Now I find out that this woman who manipulated me and used me was even more treacherous than I could have imagined. Katherine Delancy, if she lived through the Sungata assault I was going to kill her.

“Heck, please tell me she is not going to live forever.”

“From the look on your face I doubt it.”

“Heck” I said with a demanding tone.

“No brother, she is only 45. She will probably have a normal lifespan. Didn’t you ever hear that you’re not supposed to dip your pen in company ink?”

“How much do you know?”

“More than anyone wants me too.”

All at once I was a young man again hanging out with my friends swimming in the river, teasing a young girl named Cricket, jumping off bluffs with not a care in the world. Then I was back at MI. Sure it was hard but honestly I could have been real happy stuck in my cubical the rest of my life pouring over documents and reports. It was a happy dream. I started thinking of the day my CO came over to my desk and chewed my ass for a clerical error then she bent over my shoulder to show me where I went wrong, and the chills I felt when her hand touched mine. Sure she was older and my CO (Commanding Officer), but I think that made it all the more alluring. I was lost in these images when a hard hand struck me across my face.

“Balls wake up, you with me?” Heck asked.

It took me a moment to gather what was going on. I was on the floor of the Admiral’s cabin and the emergency lights were on. The red alert sign was flashing in the corner and Heck started pulling me off the floor. “What happened?”

“Let’s find out.”

We went to the bridge, and Admiral Thomas was pouring over data readout from the operations station. “Admiral what happened?” I asked, trying to sound like I had command of something.

Without looking up Admiral Thomas sounded off. “The Fleet ran into an EMP Mine field. Just before we were picking up fighters coming in on long range sensors.”

“Have we scrambled fighters yet?” Heck demanded.

“No, our fighters were on standby. When the EMP went off their power generators were wiped out. The Fleet is adrift and defenseless.”

“What about the securiapods?” Heck asked.

Admiral Thomas looked up but not at us. “They should be alright but I doubt they could repel an attack by a Sungata fighter wing.”

“They don’t need to, they just need to keep them busy long enough for one of these ships to become operational. Balls, let’s go.”

I followed him down to the hanger bay and we fought our way through a swarm of pilots and engineers trying to get the fighters operational. We found the securipods lined up against the wall plugged in and charging their cells. The securipod is a platform with a post that wraps around the pilot’s body. There are two skids on each side of the pod. Mounted on the skid are two Static Inversion Cannons. The pod is surrounded by a crystalline bubble that gives the pilot a 360-degree view. The console is very simple. It has two joysticks and several gauges and switches. On each handle are triggers for the guns, thumb pads that control pitch and three finger buttons that help with directional thruster control.

Heck jumped aboard one and fired it up. He got out and went to a COM panel. “Admiral, they work. Balls and I are going to get some volunteers to defend the ship. Get the other ships to send theirs out too. Let’s go Balls.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Jump on, we got work to do”

“I can’t fly that thing, grab one of the pilots.”

“We have to keep the pilots here in case they get those fighters fired up, besides it is not that hard to fly one of these.”

I’m not sure why but I just shrugged my shoulders and jumped on board.

If I mentioned this before I am truly sorry but I must reiterate, I have a problem listening to directions when it comes to technical devices, procedure, etc.

I am not sure what exactly I was thinking about while Heck was going over the operation of the securipod. I’m sure it wasn’t as important as keeping me alive. I wanted to listen, I really did. It’s as if someone puts cotton in my ears; I just can’t hear it.

“You ready,” Heck asked and didn’t wait for an answer. “Let’s go.” With that his securipod started to move.

Part 44

I was standing in my pod looking at a simple yet still intimidating panel of switches, buttons and digital readouts. Lucky for me these pods are a lot easier to operate than the UPCS Transports, even though the concepts are similar. You see they are both made by the same company. The transport is made strictly for highly trained pilots, while the pods are meant for junior graduate aviators and infantry to provide light guard and escort duty. It’s mainly for small ships and outposts. The pods heavy cannons make it very effective even against much larger fighters. The fact they have little defensive capabilities is compensated by their size and maneuverability. Or so I’m told, one good hit and your space dust.

By now, even though I’m still alive, I am reasonably convinced that God doesn’t like me. I think he just keeps me around for a good laugh. I have, however had an amazing streak of luck. The controls are well marked. Each joystick had a detailed diagram that said exactly what it did and what the purpose of each button was. In addition the start button was clearly marked. Maybe I might live through this, with only loosing a limb or two. I fired it up and she made a low consistent hum. I depressed the foot pedal, per the instructions, and my pod easily lifted off the deck. Gently pulling back on the handles, I slowly maneuvered the pod back and a gentle twisting with my thumbs rotated her to the bay doors. As I pushed the pod forward I started moving toward empty space with ease.

I was excited now, I was going t make it. Then I heard someone yelling. That someone was running to catch up to me, asking me to stop. I tried but I couldn’t figure out how. “Colonel, Colonel…” Is all I heard. Later I would get to know the man; it was Chief of the Deck, Arnold Christopher. He operated the hanger deck as a maestro conducts an orchestra. Even when it looks its most chaotic, Christopher would say that is when it was its most harmonious. Nothing went on that he didn’t know about. And right then he was very concerned with my pod.

He kept jogging trying to get me to stop. When he realized I couldn’t he went to a full sprint to catch up. With a great leap he jumped on the skid of my pod. We were nearly to the thin energy field that kept space out and the equipment and people in. “You fool your going to get killed.” I said.

Christopher reached in to the pod and pressed a red button on the side of the control pedestal. The canopy started to close and he jumped off as I started to pass through the energy field. As I passed into the vacuum I heard him yell, “Give’m hell Colonel, have a safe ride.”

I was a big fan of sci-fi pictures when I was growing up. My friends all liked to make fun of the far out technologies or try to invent whatever it was that hadn’t been invented yet. I always enjoyed the social aspect; all the old movies and TV shows were very moralistic, warning of what could happen or showing how good things could be if we just changed our ways. One thing they never got right was space. They never showed how cold it really was. Space is so quite it’s unnerving at times. Plus you hardly ever have a relative point to gauge speed. You almost never know how fast you are going. If you are in a pod skimming along side of a ship or space station, which is moving slower than you are or in an opposite direction, you are going to feel like you are going so fast you can’t control your ship. This is right where I was, barreling in at the HMS Manalo; spinning on my axis 360 degrees. Normally in open space, if you are in a spin, it means almost nothing. With no fixed point you really don’t know your spinning. There are no G forces, or anything else; the fact I was spinning while headed for the smooth side of a star cruiser actually made me quite nauseous. My controls seemed unresponsive and every indicator light I had was lit up. Everything I tried didn’t work. I tired firing the engines again, nothing. Out of frustration I stomped my foot on the floor. As my foot depressed the actuator pedal the jets fired on the pod and my pod pulled out of its dive and went straight up toward the bottom of the Destroyer that was in close formation with the Manalo. I wish I could tell you the name but the letters were so big and moving by so fast all I got was a sixty foot A then F.

“Good thing the deflector on that thing is working.” Heck’s voice came over the intercom. Each pod is equipped with a close range deflector. Since they are flown in tight quarters, it is very necessary.

“Yes, aren’t I the lucky one.” It was taking me time to gain control of the pod. All the while I watched as the specks of pods flowed out of the various ships, all manned with brave souls who had to know this was there last moments. I found it hard to believe that it would take more than a mere Sungata fighter to finish us off. There was no telling how many were coming. For all we knew, the fighters were a prelude to the rest of or a large portion of the Sungata Fleet.

The pods fluttered around the great ships like mosquitoes swarming a warm piece of flesh waiting to strike to procure the life giving blood needed to sustain hours of flight. Only now, the mesquites were attempting to protect its prey from a larger predator. I moved my pod away from the Fleet. Not too far, just enough that I could maneuver and get the hang of accelerating and turning.

The first Sungata fighter silently and menacingly appeared out of nowhere and began incinerating securipods at will. This is another area old movies got it wrong. It’s like watching them with the sound off. Big flashes of light streaked across the black background. When the bands of energy hit their target, a ball of fire popped. That’s all I could do, it seemed like it took me forever to reach the battle. All I could do was watch pops of light one here and another there. As fast as the fighter fired, pops of light answered the report.

I blinked my eyes and when the light passed into my retinas, again there was another fighter then another. No streaks of light no explosion of color, nothing. One second they weren’t there the next they were. It felt like an eternity floating toward my doom. At that moment, the unthinkable happened. We managed to bring one of the fighters down. A chorus of cheers rang across the COM system. It made almost enough noise to cover the sounds of screams as pods were disintegrated. By now there was a fine collection of Sungata fighters. As my pod sped toward elimination, I felt foolish for hurrying because directly in front of me appeared a Sungata fighter.

From pure fear I closed my eyes squeezed my hand and leaned back. My credo in life really should be it is better to be lucky than good. My only question is why, why me. Why is it that just out of dumb luck I managed to fire my guns at that precise moment? How did the blasts find their mark in the matter intake vents? The ship blew apart silently. Such violence deserves more of a grand conclusion. The magnificence of the war punctuated not with an explanation point but just a…

Part 45

But why me? Why do I live by dumb luck while skilled,

stalwart men and women continue to die? It is my fortune and my curse to live off of and capitalize off the blood and deaths of people far greater than me. I met a young man sometime during my brief tenure at boot camp. His name, Robert Edwards. He was a tall good looking kid. Smart, I mean real smart. He could have avoided service. He was published in at least three scientific journals, but he volunteered anyway. He was every bit the social magnet I was not. In fact he was the polar opposite of me. A few days ago, I happened upon his name in a casualty list. He could have been anything he wanted. He became cannon fodder while I live on. I appreciate the sacrifice these men made and do make on a daily basis. Until the day I die I will regret that other men braver than me, smarter than me, and can contribute more to society than me, perished.

It was that very thought that crossed through my brain when I decided to end it all. The Sungata fighters decided there best course of action would be to form a firing line parallel to our fleet. A few targeted the pods the rest opened fire on the defenseless Fleet. Without shielding it wouldn’t take much to punch holes through the hulls. I remembered Heck told me that if my pod was going too fast my deflector wouldn’t work. So I lined up my pod to the closest fighter which just happened to be the one on the left flank. As best I could figure I had my thrusters at full speed. I squeezed my triggers and my cannons opened up and lit up the space in front of me. My pod shook violently with each discharge.

The fighter couldn’t totally ignore me. My canons at close range would do severe damage to the fighter. He opened fire on me, and part of me hoped one of their shots would vaporize me and my grief would end right there. I can’t figure if it was a blessing or a curse, I just couldn’t fly straight and they couldn’t lock on to me. I finally got close enough and I prayed to God that I could keep my hand firm as I guided my pod toward the cockpit of the fighter and closed my eyes. Serenity, space is pure serenity. The violence of war is swallowed in the vacuum of space. No noise, but there is motion. I felt a big motion as the shock wave from the exploding fighter knocked me off my path. Before I knew what was going on, I was on another collision course with what could now be described as the left flank fighter.

I thought what the hell and tried again, only now my speed had slowed enough that I just bounced off the hull and into a collision course of the next fighter. My close fly by did significant damage to the fighter. As I approached the next it tried to turn and defend itself but it was too close to the fighter on its left. If it opened up it would most assuredly destroy the craft next to it. I careened of the hull of the fighter and proceeded on toward the next. I was very dismayed. My attempt to end my life was failing miserably.

Two remarkable things happened, due to my suicide attempt; the fighters ceased their assault on the Fleet to defend the flank against one securipod. Second, the other securipods followed suit some flanked to the left others to the right. One group charged right up the middle led by Heck. They had to keep the fighters from breaking formation so the flanking ships could get around. Heck was not trying to die but he knew that this was a pivotal action in order for the action to be a success.

Not knowing what else to do, I kept on my path, trying not to shoot other pods as they flew by. The current action was making me incredibly sick to my stomach. The passing pods coupled with my proximity to the fighters gave me a real sense of how fast I was moving. Before I knew it, I had past through the whole line of fighters. I turned my pod around and watched as the pods swarmed like bees protecting the hive. The fighters seemed to have no cohesive strategy for close combat tactics. In fact, with the pods moving freely throughout the lines, they couldn’t fire. Some were so damaged that it was actually physically impossible. The others tried there best to defend the ships but couldn’t fire on the wounded ships. The fighters started to break ranks and tried to make a run for it. Not that they could have made a right move but that would have to be qualified as really bad. More than half of the ships were dead in the water. The others started to run but were so badly damaged they were barely moving as fast as the pods. With their guns turned away all they could depend on to defend themselves was the shielding of the rear of the ships.

Since the pods didn’t have to worry about the crippled ships, they focused in on the tails of the escaping ships. It didn’t take long, the ships with tails of securipods, started to fall one after the other. When the pods turned to finish off the rest, the remaining fighters started exploding. They must have activated a self destruct device in order to keep from being taken.

The all clear was given and the remaining pods headed back to their various ships. I could tell some ships were powering up, and I headed back to my ship filled with indignation. I wanted it to be all over, but I was faced with the fact I would have to return to face my fate at a later date. I could not help but have an over whelming sense of dread as I approached the hanger of my ship.

It took me a moment to gather my thoughts. I was lying down and quite comfortable. I felt much better than before. I was relaxed and content. The only thing bothering me was the light was so bright in the room, and it smelled funny. I put my hands behind my head and took a deep breath. As I exhaled I felt all the tension leave my mind and I had no thought about anything other than me being comfortable. I heard a rustle from the side of the room and I looked around and saw a man in scrubs standing off in the corner. He looked at me rather queerly, dropped his data pad and left the room.

I couldn’t figure out why someone was standing in my room, but this was the military and stranger things have happened. I rubbed my eyes and found I was attached to a machine next to my bed via my hand and a tube in my chest. I was in the infirmary, again. I wasn’t sure how I got there, but there I was none the less. I still felt good and I still could care less but I had a curiosity about how I got there. A moment later a doctor and a pair of nurses came in and started checking me over they kept asking me questions but I couldn’t really make out what they were saying. They checked my eyes and looked at the machine readouts and talked amongst themselves. I could hear their voices clear enough but the words seemed scrambled.

I closed my eyes, when they opened I saw the familiar smiling face of Heck standing in front of me, He said something and all I could do was stare. It was like I was looking at everyone through someone else’s eyes. I decided it was time to get up. I tried to move but couldn’t. I lifted my torso off the bed with my elbows and I realized I could not move my body below my sternum. Heck was talking the whole time and I think he finally figured out that I couldn’t understand him. He walked over to a cabinet and pulled out an item and walked over to me. He lifted a mirror in front of me and I saw my disfigured head with a scar that was running the length of my skull. Apparently, I had been involved in some activity that caused some brain damage.

I had an overwhelming urge to close my eyes. When I woke up, Heck was talking to the doctor, he was asking when or if I was going to recover my mobility or cognitive responses. “I can hear you!” I shouted to the concerned pair in the room. They both came over to me and the Doctor checked me over.

“Can you get up?” the Doctor asked. I didn’t try and answer, for I didn’t know for sure myself. I swung my legs off the side of my bed, put my weight on to my feet, and stood.

“Yes I can get up.” I said with a great deal of satisfaction.

“Let’s get you out of here.” Heck said as he took my arm. As we walked he filled me in on what happened. Apparently as I tried to dock my pod I was going to fast and I rammed the deck and my pod started bouncing around like a ping pong ball. I slammed into a fighter that was refueling trying to start back up after the EMP pulse. When my pod slammed into the side of the fighter, it exploded. Everyone thought I was gone but they found my body in the rubble. I had been in a coma for several days. Heck was pleased to inform me I had wakened just in time for the battle of Earth.

Part 46

The Sungata and the peace-keeping forces were stalled at Jupiter. Another little thing no one mentioned until right now was the Chahorte had a base in Jupiter’s orbit. They knew the separatists who settle Earth did not want them there, but there were those in the government who felt they needed to be protected from hostile elements. So a base was built and put in orbit around Jupiter. They were able to monitor Earth and produce a distortion field that dissuaded any passing ships from coming into the system. The field gave a false radiation signal that made it seem like there was lethal amounts of radiation emanating from the system. For generations we called this base Titan. (In fact, now that I know this, it is almost obvious that it is artificial.) Titan just looks like a soccer ball. It has separations running the length of the sphere.

The Sungata did not anticipate this and were up against a hell of a fight. The Chahorte Fleet had gathered around the moon, which was now back in its familiar orbit around earth. The Chahorte Fleet was not large but they were powerful. In addition, they had overcome the shortcomings in their shielding that had arisen. Even still the Sungata by themselves had a helluva large Fleet. They had taken every person and resource from their system to commit to our destruction. The peacekeepers mandate was not to destroy mankind rather to get the TDA to surrender and allow the Sungata to take control of the system.

After a protracted engagement at Titan the stations power supply being very old, ran out and the Fleet was able to move in toward Earth. As the earth defenses started there aegis of the area, we finally caught up to them. Our small fleet of ships barely added anything to the fight, even after we belched out our fighter groups. The word came from Field Marshal Brooks to transport all troops down to Earth’s surface. This was an adventure all onto itself. Over the years, I had formulated the opinion that if I was going to face death I would much rather be in control of when and where my body went. On a transport, dropping through hostile fire was not that situation. The only thing I could do was hold on. If you were shot out of the sky oh, well. On this day the drop went well for me. I watched, as other transports were shot out of the sky killing the hundreds aboard. I was lucky enough to make it to Earth.

Once we landed Heck and I went to the command center setup. It’s a large compound that would be considered impenetrable by air. There was a big meeting of the brass, which to my chagrin I realized I was now, a member. It was agreed that as long as our Fleet was defending Earth the Sungata could not train their guns to targets on Earth. But what they could do once they got in range is transport shock troops to Earth. During this meeting, I related our experiences on the Sungata home world. It was received well by most of the brass even though I still was sickened by the destruction we caused. I wish I had some of the drugs they gave me in the infirmary that made me not care about what was going on.

After the meeting General Penington asked to see me. “Look here Balls. General Green died in the fight at Titian. We need a new group commander for Omega and Theta Battalions, well basically your it.”

“Sir with all due respect I have no business being in charge….”

“This isn’t the time Balls.” Pennington interrupted me. “We need someone and your it. Honestly with what you told us we may not even live long enough to officially submit your name for promotion so don’t worry about it General. The only thing you have to do is get your men ready to fight.”

General Balls sounds kind of weird. Even more weird is Bravo Group was part of Theta Company. When I went there I ran into my old buddy Sgt. Henderson. After his commendation, he was promoted to Lieutenant. However, after a few brawls and transgressions he was quickly demoted to Sergeant again. I could not be that lucky. From what Pennington was telling me I was going to be decorated again for my selfless charge in the securipod. Oh joy.

“Henderson,” I belted out as loud as I could.

“Officer on deck.” Henderson belted out at least ten octaves higher than I could possibly attempt. His body became stiff as concrete and he stood as tall as any soldier ever could. With his alert the whole room also stooped and stiffened in preparation for an inspection. After all, why else would a general stroll into the barracks?

I stood for a moment enjoying the silence. Not one person was looking at me yet they all knew where I was. I could learn to like the power and prestige that came with this position. “As you were.” I said loud enough where all could hear me releasing the men from their obligation to stand at attention. “Henderson I need to see you outside.” That was something Heck taught me. When you want to ask something make it an order. When I first came into the military I would hem and haw and sheepishly dance around asking Henderson a question. Now I say meet me outside and he jumps, I could get used to that for sure.

“Sir, if I may, it’s good to see you again.” Henderson said. He was not known as a brown sycophant so if he said something like that he meant it.

“It is good to see you again Sergeant.” I found out it was frowned upon abbreviating rank once you became a commanding officer. “I need a staff sergeant, do you have any recommendations?” this wasn’t a question.

“Sir I know many fine men who would serve you fine.”

“Who is your Lieutenant now?”

“Lt. Dawson sir.”
“Would any of the men you had in mind make a good Platoon Sergeant for Dawson?”

“I suppose so sir.”

“Good, I’ll put in the name you give me, so I can transfer you to my staff. Sergeant Major.”

“Sir with all due respect I would rather stay where…”

“This isn’t the time Sergeant.” I interrupted Henderson. “I need someone and your it. I know you would rather stay with your men and face battle, but chances are we are all going to die soon. I promise you all the fighting you can handle. I need a vet who is respected and feared by the troops, someone who can dispense my orders with conviction and eagerness. I have two other aides but you’ll answer only to me. I expect a higher standard. I want no more fighting or drunkenness. You once told me serving in the military was the most important thing to you. Well it’s time for you to step up and be an example to the men. Now you represent me. Any thing and everything you do is a delineation of my policies and me. So anything you do has to be up to that standard, and you don’t have a choice.”

“Yes sir, it is an honor to serve with you.”

Henderson is an ass and is crude, but he is a hell of a solider. I felt bad giving him orders. He was a true hero and there he was, blindly obeying me because of my false reputation. I did not have time to worry about that now; I needed Henderson at his best that means he has to believe in the myth, not the man. I gave Henderson a list of things I wanted him to do and with a snap of his hand he was off like the wind to complete my orders to the letter. I had my aides promoted to Captain and Lieutenant respectively. And we went for a review of the troops and the positions they held around the command post.

This was an important post not just because of the military and political leaders who were here but the communications and energy hubs were all routed through here. This is where the Sungata would try and strike. It was only a matter of time. Once they got close enough they would surely dump everybody they had onto the planet. It would be my job to make sure that Earth didn’t fall. It always comes to this in war. No matter how advanced the technologies are it will always fall to man on man combat. Guys with guns shooting at other guys with guns. It’s that simple. Sometimes the leadership forgets this. We get so enamored with new toys that the potential loss of life becomes secondary.

Oh sure we can blow stuff up from miles away or from the other side of the galaxy without endangering any humans. Don’t worry about attacking so and so because our troops won’t be in the way. But what happens when they strike back. People have a tendency to hold grudges. Feuds can last generations even after the conflict is over. One day when you don’t expect it war can start up again. The human cost is often the last consideration in war.

Heck led the men in digging trenches around the compound, and makeshift, heavy fire nests. These are the areas where we placed the large rapid-fire sonic cannons and short range artillery. Not knowing what else to do I kept going around to the men and asked what they were doing and if it was going OK. Generally I think they felt I had a real grasp on what was going on. I kept Henderson real busy. I told him to make sure each company knew what the others were doing. There was not a troop placement or patrol Henderson didn’t hear about.

The brass was all very busy having meetings, communicating with the Fleet coming up with variables and contingency plans. It was all very interesting, even though my role was like an overblown moral officer. Whenever I started questioning myself, Heck would come out of nowhere and say something like, “Just inspire the men and let them lead themselves.” Or “You don’t fight the war for them, they fight for you.” The best book on how to fight the battle is thrown out the window when the first shot is fired. It was all very conciliatory, but it didn’t make me feel any better about leading thousands of men to their death. It made me think of a General in the United States’ Revolutionary War. He had a disastrous battle where he lost most of his men and he got on his horse and rode out of the state and went all the way home and never fought a battle again. I could sympathize, at the same time I wanted to leave before the battle.

Then unexpectedly, the engagement initiated. We were all around the compound; it was a pristine night. The unsettling thing was the full moon illuminated the sky so brightly you could clearly see the strike taking place in orbit.

Before long, we saw the meteor shower, or what looked like a meteor shower. In reality, it was the invasion force. Most of us were awash in awe of the beauty of the shower that quickly turned to terror when the revelation was bestowed upon us that the invasion force was upon us.

The base went from a moment of serenity to controlled chaos. I took a spot on the top of the compound in an outlook station. It had occurred to me that I had not had a gun in my hands in some time but right now, I was more concerned where the enemy was. In fact, their position was circuitously. You could tell by the mist, the water evaporating from the heat of the landing craft. Without warning bursts of plasma started bouncing off the shielding which protected us. If they attacked a few months ago we would not have had the shields, but thanks to the Chahorte, we were more prepared. The fact that if the shields were not there, my position would have been the first hit was not lost on me.

The plasma shots were not doing any damage but what they were doing was making a hell of a lot of noise. Most of the veterans were not bothered by it. However, there were copious amount of replacements that were not fairing well. It was not only the noise but there was a frightening visual display. Then I had an epiphany, I wondered how long the shields could hold up. I radioed Penington to ask.

“I am not sure. The heavier the fire the more likely our shielding will fail.”

“Well we can’t just sit here and do nothing.” I was confused as why we were just going to sit and let them fire at us.

“There is not much else we can do. We are just preparing for a heavy bombardment when the shields fail.” Pennington’s words stabbed like a knife. Then I had an idea.

I turned to my aide, “get me Marshal Brooks on the COM.”

I could only imagine Brook’s face when he heard my suggestion. From the tone of his voice I knew it must have been strained. “You want me to bomb our own command post?”

“I know it sounds crazy, but I think it’s the only way.”

“I don’t see how this helps us.”

“If you use the antimatter pods our shields will protect us. We have an energy shield so when the antimatter touches it won’t blow up. And the shields will protect us from the shock wave.”

“But, you yourself told of the destruction they caused. And now you want me to use them on Earth.”

“Just one or two; right on top of us. Subsequently we send out a counter attack.”

I heard a taping on the other end of the COM, “You know, Balls, this just might work. You really have the right sobriquet.”

Minutes later, after feverish discussions amongst the brass were completed; two antimatter pods were on there way to striking the compound. Heck and I were waiting in a trench ready to charge. The visualization of the antimatter hitting the Earth and then vaporizing was something that not many people can say they ever saw. In fact, I don’t believe anyone had ever been this close. As soon as the brilliant shock wave cleared the troops, rather trepidatiously piled out of the trenches and charged toward the unknown. After traveling several meters rather quickly, we were made aware that the Sungata were not all dead. As the dust settled, we could see the outline of the Sungata charging and firing. Our troops went to their knees and returned fire. It was right out of a Napoleonic War. The troops were lined up opposite of each other and were shooting at each other.

The rivulet of incandescent phlogiston could have even the most stoic war hero weak in the knees. Heck braved the onslaught, by refusing to stoop below the salvos. I took his lead and stood tall before the men and encouraged them to continue, I thought what is the worst that could happen? If I died I would just be out of my tribulation. The ferocity of the violence and death was overwhelming. The men fighting to protect their homes showed no fear. This was not some faceless asteroid or a personality devoid space station, this was home. These boys would never stop. Their fortitude was heartening. For all its flaws, at that moment I knew humanity will be OK. Heck lifted those who had fallen and pushed down those who were in danger. He directed the firing line as good as any conductor controls an orchestra. I on the other and kept falling down and my troops kept picking me up. I was hit several times, as were most people. The number of Sungata was small after the bombardment but they fought more than twice their size. Although they were the enemy I could not help but admire their spirit, durability, persistence and toughness.

As swiftly as the battle started it was over. Dead men lay everywhere. For the first time, our soldiers had the dead of the enemy lying at their feet. For whatever reason their bodies didn’t self-destruct. For many, it was the first time they were truly confronted by the horrors of war. For others it was just another day. A lot of the new guys fell to the ground and sobbed at the sight of the death, or the fact they lost a friend, or they were just happy to be alive. Some threw up, I threw up I think just out of habit.

The mournfulness was quickly replaced with adulation. But I was quick to temper the excitement. The battle may have been won but there is still an imposing Fleet determined to eradicate this planet. Heck and I disseminated order to secure the perimeter and fleece the dead bodies. My last order was to prepare for another attack. When Heck and I returned to the war room we were pleasantly surprised to hear the Chahorte envoy had persuaded the opposing consul members who were sympathetic to our cause to force a new vote for a temporary cessation of hostilities. The Chahorte enlightened the council of the Sungata’s plans for total eradication of humans.

The designating races had enough pull to vote for a pause in military operations, though most of the races believed whole heartily that we needed to be removed from the system. We of course knew there was no way that the Sungata would stand down. That would give us a chance to regroup and rearm. We expected that they would resist but we had no idea how bad it would get. The fighting remained stout. The Peacekeeping ships stood down and pulled back; the Sungata did not. Our ships picked up several communiqués from the peacekeepers demanding that the Sungata stand down. How did they respond? A fighter group broke from the Fleet and strafed Earth twice before being destroyed.

Then to our total surprise the peacekeepers fired on the Sungata. Now the only reason we have been able to stand up to the onslaught of the Sungata is the technologies of the Chahorte. In a matter of days, the Chahorte engineers were able to integrate their technologies into our vessels; mainly just weapons and shields. This time a year ago this would have been more than enough to quash the Sungata; half the galaxy for that matter. However, several months ago the Sungata took a giant leap in technology. The Chahorte suspected the Tuntra. After all Heck and I delivered a spy to their front door. There was no telling what she told them. Even still, they already knew a lot.

Part 47

Tuntra spies are almost impossible to detect. They have to give themselves away the way Charlotte did. If you see a Tuntra you would know it but they have a way of looking like the species, only humanoid. Our scientists can’t figure it out. It’s like how a cat purrs; you know they do it but you don’t know how. The Chahorte were very secluded, apparently it was not impossible to infiltrate. Everyone could tell the Chahorte were the key to ending this war. The Sungata knew they could not get them to join the fight but if they could get their technology, they wouldn’t need them. That is exactly what they did and it worked, for a time. They did not count on their close connection to Earth.

Sure there had been clashes between us, the Chahorte wanted to stay out of the war. I couldn’t blame them; I would rather not have been involved. Now the peacekeepers probably wished they were not involved. The Sungata warships began a wholesale slaughter of the peacekeeping ships. Those of us in command and the admiralty stood in disbelief about what we were witnessing. The Sungata turned their backs on a counsel directive; there could be no mistaking it now they were out for blood. We would have to either destroy them or be destroyed ourselves.

The totality of the situation really began to be too much for me. I found an empty storage closet near the mess hall. I could not get past my survivor’s guilt. I felt I was responsible for the deaths of my men. My acts of cowardice caused others their life. Then, like a father who knew there was something wrong with his son, Heck opened my sanctuary door. “Listen, I know you are too gentle of a soul to have ever been in the military. I know you have made some bad mistakes, and you feel guilty over the lives lost. I propose that this is not the time. Everyone makes mistakes in life; no one is exempt. If you live as long as I have you have made a bunch. The only chance you have is to not allow your mistakes to swallow you whole. Don’t keep losing the battles you fought yesterday in your head when you have a battle to fight today. Learn from your mistakes and do better next time. You did not put anyone in danger and you do not control what others do. You need to be strong for those around you. For the rest of your life I don’t want you to sit around making the same mistakes over and over again in your head, if you keep doing that it’s all you will ever do.” Heck pulled me out of the closet and walked me back to the bridge.

I knew he was right, from that point on my life changed forever. I had been a coward. Not just in battle but in life. I had a hard time standing up for myself. I never crossed the room to ask the pretty girl for a dance. I never jumped on opportunities when I saw them. I lived those moments repeatedly in my head. The saying is wholly true; a coward does die a thousand times, for he lives the moments over in his head wishing he made a different choice. Right then, I made a choice I would only expend my energy toward dealing with the present. I realized that I was a General in one of the most powerful armies in the galaxy. I rose from the ranks as a private. I had the good fortune to stay alive and inspired others to face death with dignity and courage. I had made friends and found love. I indeed was a lucky man.

Of course, now that I appreciated the good things that had happened in the perdition of this conflict, it was most likely that this battle would end with our deaths. As I stood on the bridge watching the last of the peacekeeping ships get destroyed a communication came in from Agremantiza. The Magistrate of the Council has declared an iniquitous transgression on the part of the Sungata. In other words, they did a bad thing. The Sungata’s seat on the Council has been suspended and official sanctions had been issued. It was good to hear that the Council was on our side but we were still looking down the barrel of a very big gun.

I hate to take credit for it but I did have a great idea. “I know what we can do. If we take a fighter, one of the Chahorte's small fast ones, we can fly close enough to surpass the shields and attach an antimatter bomb to the hull of the destroyers. At best, we can destroy them with one bomb; at worst, we can cripple them to the point they won’t be a threat to us. After the big ships are out of the way we can use the Fleet to push the Sungata’s smaller ships toward the moon and once they are in range of the moon’s big guns…”

“Then we can end this” Marshal Brooks added very interested in my idea. “Do you think you can pull it off?”

“I’ll do my best sir.” I said proud that I was going to get the chance to save my people. Then Heck burst my bubble.

“With all do respect to the General, there is no way he is skilled enough to fly a fast ship in close quarters and attach unstable ordinance while defending the ship. We could ask for volunteers from our pilot Corp, I know that we would receive numerous volunteers. However, I propose that you let me fly the mission, I have the most experience.

Brooks stood and looked Heck square in the eye. “You know how much we appreciate all you do. You know that if you do this no one can ever know that you were involved?”

“I have always understood that I was to operate in the background, that has never bothered me in the past and it doesn’t bother me now. I have never asked for more than a chance to serve. If this can end this war, even if it means my life I am all for it.”

Heck was right of course. I couldn’t fly a securipod let alone a complicated alien spacecraft. Brooks contacted the Chahorte fleet and informed them of the plan. They were all for it. We all shook Heck’s hands and wished him luck as he left the bridge. I could not tell you exactly how many ships were in the battle; it looked like it was ten to one against us. I know that doesn’t help but it was just a lot of ships. The whole time we were on Earth, in the closet or on the bridge, there was a colossal battle was taking place. It was so even that no one side seemed to gain an advantage. If we could get the ships close to the moon, it would turn the tide.

Now all I could do, all any of us could do was watch and wait. We only had a few of the bombs left, so Heck had to be perfect. He would have to attach a few bombs and return to rearm then do it again. It was a long shot at best. We watched as a fighter wing escorted Heck to the first big ship. It was a success. The next two were also successful. He returned and rearmed. We watched the process several times. Each time there were less and less escorts until there were none. I swear that not one person breathed until Heck placed the last bomb. As he returned to our ship, a Sungata fighter wing got in behind him and before I knew it the fighter Heck was in was a cloud of dust.

Part 48

I was stunned. I knew how dangerous the mission was, but part of me couldn’t believe that anything would ever happen to him. He was more than the ideal soldier was; he was the ideal person. Put aside the genetic manipulation, he was selfless, honorable, compassionate and temperate. His enhancements may have made him faster and stronger. He may have had better vision and quicker reflexes but he was a complete representation of what was best in the character of humans.

He would receive no military honors or recognition because we were too immature to deal with his hidden life. So many things could have been better, should have been better if fear and prejudices were put aside. I know not one nation can do it alone, but I can’t help but think when Henry King was born there was a man like me who thought the people were out of line and said nothing. How many people stood by and did nothing when injustice happened.

Who remained silent when technologies were banned? Who did nothing when babies were murdered because they were cloned or manipulated? People were so afraid to be labeled racist or intolerant they let religious fanatics run wild. How many people let fear rule them as their government slowly stripped their rights away, took their money, stole their land or took their liberty? How many people said it was not my problem, those people are not in my country why should we do anything? How many people throughout history would not stand up for those who could not stand up for themselves? How many were too afraid to loose their comfortable aristocratic life to do what is right. The answer is, too many.

For the longest time during this war I felt bad for my actions, now I felt sorrow for the cowardice of those that lived before me. I pity those that were to short sighted to do the right thing. Those that shrugged their shoulders to absurd judgments by the governments, willing to bow down to authority although they knew they were wrong.

This war ended with the fight for Earth. The Sungata committed to total war, when they lost they lost totally. From my time on the Sungata home world, I found that the populace may have not supported this action, but no one did anything. Now the Sungata are but mere nomads, there home destroyed, infrastructure wiped out and a generation gone all because a people did not stop what was wrong. Maybe they were legally right but the action was not right for the people.

This memoir is a cautionary tale. I realized in time that my failings were not fatal or permanent. If I could change anyone could. I never again allowed myself to be thrown into a situation where I felt I was being wronged. I didn’t let people to take advantage of me. I did not become so ridged that I was inflexible. I tried to strike a good balance in my life. I made many mistakes but I learned from them and did not let them rule my life. I hope my children and my grand children can look at what happened to me and learn from my mistakes. My wife and I sacrificed a lot for this cause. Although she cannot stand the fact that I outrank her now, she still says she didn’t screw me over.

In the end, all it took was one man to stand up and elevate those around him. When I first was in the military I wanted to die because I was too scared to live; after Heck I wanted to live and live well. I realized thanks to him, that there are things bigger than any one person. Sometimes an ideal or a cause is worth sacrificing your comfort, time, money or yes even your life.

Field Marshal, Thomas S. (Balls) Gatlin

Commander and Chief of Alliance Forces (ret.)

THE END