Imminent Destruction

Karen found the guest room filled with plastic crates which were attached to the ground by steel hooks extending from under the floor. In the midst of these obstacles a single bed opened from the wall. It was screwed into metal studs at the footboard. The dingy, dust soaked mattress had a single stained sheet; the thin pillows looked as if they had been dragged through the hanger. Karen imagined every microscopic creature known to mankind lurking in the worn fabric as she sprayed the bed with disinfectant. She gathered her personal effects on a crate and sat on the bed. Her calves pressed against the brown metal bed frame; the cold metal caused her to jerk them forward and rub her legs. With a sigh she reached for her bag, pulled out make-up, spring water and a phone. She took a healthy gulp of the water and called Carlos.

“Carlos, I need you to fix my room before I can get ready. I’m right next to the kitchen… No! I want you here now!”

Carlos arrived promptly and began removing the hooks from the excess crates so he could drag them into the mess hall while Karen played with her phone. Whatever was inside them was light enough to allow for movement but heavy enough to make it difficult. Carlos dripped with sweat by the time he unhooked the final crate, the one which held Karen’s possessions.

“Don’t you have enough common sense to see I’m using that?” Karen snapped, “Leave it were it is. Put those hooks back in place. Why don’t you help Adritah get the camera set up in the control room? We need to have it done before that mercenary notices. I’ll talk to him once it’s up.”

Carlos paused to catch a breath and work the soreness out of his back.

“What are you waiting for? You’re not paid to do nothing!” she barked as she finished updating the communication protocols of her phone. Carlos replaced the hooks. He muttered something under his breath before finishing his work with a subservient nod.

Karen examined the room now that some space was cleared. The bare floor consisted of titanium grating; the walls were an unhealthy gray; ducts and pipes lined the ceiling while especially thin pipes ran along the side walls. A dim lamp above the bed provided limited light. Only the light of her compact mirror provided anything suitable for admiring her appearance. The room lacked a port window; she wouldn’t be able to watch the planetary extraction or stargaze during the journey. This disadvantage wasn’t compensated by a telescopic device. She had access to the observation platform but she assumed it was substandard in this tug barge of a mercenary boat.

She moaned, “This better be the story of the millennium for what I’m going through”

Karen checked herself in the mirror, again; this time she tested a smile and her best coy look. She sat up straight and tucked her blouse into her skirt and smoothed her jacket. There was hardly a wrinkle on her clothes, and they were still unstained. With that settled, she again admired her unblemished portrait while turning to view herself at different angles.

When Fade roamed in, she quickly put away the mirror and arched her back, allowing her bosom to push outward against the fabric of her blouse. Her palms held her against the mattress top as she left her head fall back. Strands of blonde wavy hair fell like silken ropes. She closed her eyes and purposely sighed as if in great distress.

“I said you could prepare,” Fade said, “I never gave you permission to empty the dry goods into the mess hall. Unless; of course, you intend to pay for them.”

She pretended to be startled and sat up straight. Fade leaned against the door and watched her.

“I think I’ve paid you more than enough; besides, no harm could have possibly been done by moving a few crates. I’m a lady after all, don’t I deserve a little space?”

“The gravity stabilization system doesn’t activate during takeoff and is slow to activate afterwards. Those crates were hooked to the floor for a reason. Figure it out.”

“Cretin,” she muttered while letting herself drop onto the mattress, which was at least disinfected.

“What was that?”

“Crouton! Do you have any croutons?” she asked, looking up at the ceiling, “I thought I might have craving, you know.”

“We don’t keep much food on board. Only enough staple items to last the crew.”

“Aww, that’s a shame. Is there no good food for the battle hardened mercenary?”

Karen smiled coyly; Fade left without another word. Her smile turned into a frown as she began checking her phone.

-----

A large broadcasting camera on a thick uni-pod was installed into a special receptacle on the floor; it was about five meters back from the main control console. The work had been completed swiftly by Karen’s crew. It swiveled left to right and also tilted the lens up and down at an angle with a generous range of motion and could be operated via remote. Fade frowned, but not at the cylindrical camera stand; Bert had General Despair on the holographic receiver.

A full sized holograph of the general appeared in the center of the room; it walked and sat in the chair behind Fade’s. The general was a tall man, if a bit portly. He had beady eyes and oily strands of black hair hung from under his cap. Broad shoulders gave his body he appearance of being formerly muscular. The general’s holographic avatar wore a dress uniform on which over ten medals hung on his right shoulder alone. The Supernova of Valor, which was made of gold with thick streaks of platinum emanating from its central hub, was the centerpiece of his medal collection. General Despair glanced at the camera and its crew with an uneasy smile. His body language indicated that Fade should sit, and Fade thought it best to comply.

“What’s the problem, sir?” Fade asked.

The general took a breath, “I know this is short notice, but I’ve assigned the 113th and 122nd assault platoons, and the 144th engineering platoon to your cruiser. These three platoons compose the entire 111th infiltration company, which is under the command of Lieutenant Sol. This is an assignment of the utmost importance, so you’ll receive double the normal transport compensation and a considerable victory bonus. Captain Herr will also be joining you. He is assigned to provide fighter escort for the 111th company. You are expected to provide him with a suitable Rigor type fighter.”

Fade gripped the arm of his chair, “You’re giving me this literally minutes before takeoff. Are they bringing their own supplies? I can’t be expected to arm and feed an entire company without prior notice. And have you ever considered that I’ve been unable to repair the fighters your other pilots ruined. The least you can do is send a fighter with him!”

The general took a deep breath through a frown, “You were reimbursed for replacement of those losses. There is no excuse for sloth. I could have you terminated due to misappropriation of military funds.”

“Reimbursed!” Fade scoffed. “Less than a quarter what they were worth! I only have one flight worthy Rigor left and it’s a piece...”

The General interrupted Fade, “Well, as long as you have a fighter, Ace will do the job. As for munitions, the company is fully armed and will require storage for a hundred new weapon suits, infantry enhancement vessels (I.E.V.). They’re much larger than an ordinary combat suit, but I believe they will prove extremely useful in the upcoming battle. As per your official description, I understand the Imminent Destruction is fitted with an infantry launching hatch containing oversized storage compartments. That’ll do quite nicely. Normally I wouldn’t trust a mercenary vessel with a task of this magnitude, but you have proven yourself sufficiently. Consider it a high honor.”

“So when do they arrive?” Fade asked.

“They’ve been dispatched over half an hour ago. Considering our time table, they should arrive in a few minutes.”

Fade never took his eyes off General Despair, “How am I supposed to feed them? There’s no way I can procure the extra stores. You gave me no time, no advanced notice, and I have no money!”

“It’s a short journey to the battle,” the General said, “and after our victory you can purchase supplies directly from the Dorian. I’m sure you have enough to last for a few days. You’re about to partake in a battle upon which the future of our Galaxy hinges. Complaining now is tantamount to treason. Now, I never said you were complaining; and hopefully, I’ll never have to.”

“I would never complain sir,” Fade said in a monotone voice, “Consider me a loyal officer explaining my difficulties, for the benefit of my superiors, that’s all.”

“Well, you can be conciliatory when it is required of you,” General Despair said. “Captain Defacto, you are a citizen of the Harn Empire. If I doubted your loyalty or your ability, I would have never chosen you for this assignment, and I’m encouraged that you are among the few who will permanently serve the Harn Empire for as long as this conflict lasts. Launch for the battle sector as soon as the 111th is situated. When you link with the mother ship you’ll receive all further instructions from Admiral Norima himself.”

Fade leaned back into his chair as the General’s holograph faded into the air. He forgot about the camera as he pulled the picture frame out of his shirt pocket.

“Bert, go wait for the new arrivals,” he said, swiveling in his chair while focusing on the picture. He ignored the clicks and snaps of Carlos and Adritah making adjustments to the camera cylinder. Five minutes passed until Bert appeared on the monitors.

“Hey, Mr. Big,” he said. “The cavalry has arrived. Now what?”

“Let them get their equipment loaded in the lower hatch. I’m ordering Horace to activate the loading system. The men can enter through the starboard personnel hatch. Get them to their bunks quickly, from there they can have access to the observation deck, but that’s it. Except for the Lieutenant, he can go where he wants. As for Captain Herr, send him to the bridge.”

“Gonna get reset on the old times I spose,” Bert said, “You two must uv been real close.”

“We know each other,” Fade said coldly.

“They’re getin’ out of the trucks here. I’ll give Ace your fond hello.”

Carlos thumbed through the contents of the closet on the captain’s side, coolly examining the laser rifles and the space environment suits that were past due for replacement. This unnerved Fade enough to cause him to turn his seat and consider the man rather coolly.

“Do you ever make coffee for your taskmaster?” Fade asked.

“Yes, many times, sir.”

“Call me Fade, could I ask you a favor?”

Carlos nodded in the affirmative.

“Could you brew some coffee for me? The kit is in the kitchen that serves the lunch hall, bottom drawer, second to the left of the refrigeration unit. Thanks a bunch.”

Carlos smiled brightly as he closed the closet doors and left the bridge.

Captain Herr entered soon afterwards. Ace was several inches taller than Fade; he had thick broad shoulders; his arms were heavy and muscular. His wide jaw and chin made his face look a bit rectangular. A streak of silver ran through both sides of his otherwise jet black hair. He had thin pale lips which he kept tightly closed. His eyes were a bright clear silver. He carried himself well and proudly wore an Imperial Star of the First Order on his uniform.

“How’s the mercenary lifestyle treating you?” he asked.

“I thought you’d be dead by now,” Fade said.

“I’ll consider that a complement,” Ace said, “Not many fighter pilots survive longer than a few months, but I won’t give up until they pry the steering mechanism from my cold, rotting fingers. They might as well bury me in the fighter I die in, if there’s anything left to bury. What do you have for me? I won’t fly a space coffin.”

Fade grinned, those cheap ass fighters would never be seen in an Imminent Destruction fighter bay.

“I’ll give you the best Rigor I’ve got, the only one,” Fade said, “The armor’s not in the best of shape but it’ll fly and it’ll shoot. You can work it over, but I doubt there’s much you can do given the time. So… an infiltration unit, what about that?”

“I don’t know exactly where, when, and what those guys are infiltrating,” Ace said, “They never tell us rank and file anything. Really stinks. I’m just covering for them, you could call it a suicide mission.”

“So we do have something in common after all,” Fade said.

“Don’t get too cocky,” Ace said, “It’s not like I’m here because I volunteered.”

“Won’t see me complaining.”

Bert entered the control room and fell into his seat, “Everything’s packed and the troops are ready. Don’t ya think we should be take’in off bout now?”

“I’ll give the signal as soon as Carlos gets back with my coffee,” Fade said, “Why don’t you hurry him up a bit?”

“I just sat down,” Bert whined.

Fade threw him an annoyed glance.

“All right, I’m on it,” Bert grumbled, leaving.

“You’re welcome to strap yourself in the guest seat,” Fade said to Ace, “The timing on the gravity stabilizers is poor. We’ll experience abnormal gravity briefly, but forcefully, because I always set a high exit velocity.”

Ace relaxed as a harness sprung from the inside of the seats. Fade pressed and held the main intercom button.

“This is Fade speaking,” he said, “We’ll be taking off in approximately three minutes. I expect everyone to be strapped into their bunk, no exceptions. Our gravity stabilizer will not be activated until after reaching zero gravity. The takeoff speed will accelerate to exceed ten kilometers a second and you may experience a full hecta-G. Lean back, relax, and have a nice life.”

Bert came busting in with a hot thermos of coffee, he took it with him to his seat and put it between his legs as he frantically fastened the belts.

“What do ya suppose I’m gonna do with this God forsaken coffee!?! I’m gonna get our groins burnt off if you’re not careful.”

“Open the hanger,” Fade said, ignoring Bert’s complaint.

“Opening now,” Bert said, flicking switches as if it were a natural reflex.

Ice and snow blew inside as the ceiling separated from the center. It wouldn’t be a factor, even zero visibility could not stop a pre-mapped anti-gravity launch. The radar screen displayed the location and movement of all Hakkutian satellites. The main threat was the artificial variety, but the danger of an exit collision with a satellite was practically eliminated by careful planning of course patterns.

“Horace, Recalibrate starting position,” Fade commanded.

“Mathematical operations concerning time and position have been fully calibrated. Do you wish for a read out or verbal summary?” Horace asked.

“Print a summary in my office.”

“I’m operating at one hundred percent efficiency, as always,” Horace said.

“What about the gravity imitation system?”

“It’s Operating at .9945 of one G.”

“Basic Takeoff procedure, begin now.”

The pads at the bottom of the Imminent Destruction glowed blue as the ship shook. It floated upwards over the top of the hangar. The thrusters bellowed as it gained a safe distance. Its underside illuminated bright neon blue as the cruiser launched upwards until it became a blinking star. The ceiling of the hangar slowly closed together. The tread patterns of military half-tracks remained pushed into the icy dirt of the silent property.

Thorn bushes swayed in the wind.