Endeavors Run: Foreword

The set chapter where we first meet the protagonist as a ten year old boy, and the subsequent events following his preternatural mother's death.

Foreword: 3172 A.D. Koryak Enclave �" Earth

 

“She’s gonna die in there,” Alexus silently wept to himself, “and they won’t let me go see her.” With clenched fists he sat bitterly glaring at that hated door; the door that stood like a silent sentry blocking him from going to see his mother as she lay on her deathbed. The oppressive question “But why her? She tried to help them all,” he cried, “everyday she tried to heal the helpless…” kept running through his ten year old mind.

    The answer however, was the most lethal tragedy to inflict mankind in a thousand years, and came in the form of a prolific pandemic that killed without mercy. Nothing had wiped out so many, or so fast, since World War Extinction, also known as WWE, which was fought in 2180 A.D.

    This year a hot dry summer had created the prefect breeding conditions for a long forgotten, but virulent mutated virus called the Omsk Hemorrhagic Fever. The hosts were the bacteria-ridden fleas that appeared as an infestation prevalence that accompanied an explosion in the rat population. By late summer the plague had suddenly appeared without warning, and swept through the Koryak region with deadly effect. The first day five patients arrived at the hospital with its symptoms and within 24 hours all of them had died. By the next day more than two hundred of the afflicted had saturated the hospitals ability to adequately cope. By day twenty, there were tens of thousands.

    His mother, Doctor Nadya Porter had spent days on end in the most contaminated wards of the hospital fighting to save as many as she could. Most plague victims died within the first 24 hours after the symptoms first appeared in their bodies. The medical community was simply overwhelmed by the scale of the outbreak. Their supply of antibiotics had run out within days, and the only way to treat new patients was through quarantine, and keeping the patients as sterile as possible. Since close contact was so dangerous many doctors refused to engage in this type of treatment, and the worst cases were often left to die alone. Dr. Porter however, did not leave any she found to die alone, and she successfully saved scores of lives that otherwise would have succumbed to this deadly plague. If not for her selfless dedication to treat even the most afflicted; entire family’s would have ceased to exist.

    Ultimately though, she was unable to save herself from this same virus, and forty-seven days after the first sign that the plague had appeared in Koryak, they first appeared in Nadezhda Porter. Twenty-four hours later, she lay in her own hospitals hospice bed, only moments from death. She was thirty-five years old.

    Alexus was not allowed in the hospice room out of fear he would contract the virus. He was ordered to sit, and wait, where he frustratingly held vigil outside the door to the hospice crying in grief. When he could finally take no more, he defiantly stood up and walked to the door. Standing next to the door he could hear the soft electronic beep of her heart monitor, and it was beating very slowly. He knew what those slow beeping rhythms meant, and it firmed his resolve. In spite of strict orders to stay out the hospice room he was determined that he was going to go in, and see his mother, whether he got in trouble or not.

    Just as his hand reached for the door latch he felt rather than heard footsteps coming from the other side of the door. He quickly stepped back away from the door, and looked down out of guilt, but didn’t notice its opening. He did however, feel a doctor’s clean white lab coat standing very close to him. He then felt the doctor’s arms reach out and hold him tight. He couldn’t see which doctor it was, because completely broke down, and cried as hard as he ever had in his young life, into the front of doctor’s lab coat.

    Alexus’ eyes blurred from his intense weeping, as he pled with the doctor: “I just want to see her. I just need to see her one last time. Can’t you please just let me in for a minute? I just need to see my mom. I won’t get sick; she wouldn’t let that happen to me. I know she won’t.”

    Through the deluge of his tearful grief he heard the loving voice of his mother, and suddenly realized that it was her arms that he felt around him. “It’s alright Alexus, I’m here with you now.”

    “But mama, they said you were too sick to leave the bed. They said you would die soon.” A fresh sob gripped him once more making speech difficult. “Since you’re here now, can we just go home? Please mama, can we just go home now?” He pled with every fiber of his breaking heart.

    Her voice was so calm, so loving; that he slowly began to calm down. “Never forget the pathway I’ve shown you to find the Gift, and lead your own children there when it becomes their time, but until then, you must walk the path on your own from now on.”

    “Nooo…” He again lost control, and began to heavily sob, because he knew what she was saying: she was leaving him soon. Forever.

    She continued in her soothing voice, “Alexus, you were the light of my life, and the reason for my being, for it is you who will be the protector that saves the human race from another destruction. You my darling son are their only hope.”

    He didn’t care about any of that, he just didn’t want to let her go, and even though he had so many questions to ask, he could think of only one. “But why mama, why did you go to those dangerous places where everyone was dying. Everyone said that they were beyond help? Why did you go mama, why?”

    The last words he would ever hear from his mother, would remain engrained in the deepest reaches of his soul for the rest of his life. With the final vestige, of what tiny portion of life still clung to her, she made sure that her beloved son would never wonder why she had chosen the path that had led to her death, and as her life slipped away, she could barely only whisper, “Because my son, it was the right thing to do…”

    He suddenly felt the warmth of her arms disappear, and once again he was standing all alone outside the hospice door, where he fell to his knees and wept in uncontrollable grief.

    At that exact moment, he heard the heart monitor beep in the hospice room beyond the door become a steady shrill. It was an insidious sound that announced her death: his mother’s death. The death of the most important person he would in his young life.

    Wails of grief came from inside the hospice room, and he knew for certainty that in that moment she was finally gone forever. He also knew that somehow, while her body lay so close to death in that hospice bed, she had made one final astral projection to come find him, and spend her final moments with only him. With his broken heart he knew that her last few moments of life were her final gift to him.

 

 

 

***

 

3172 AD �" Six Weeks Later - Olympus Mons �" Mars: The Message

 

The lieutenant’s footfalls echoed loudly throughout the empty hall as she approached the little used archive room deep in the basement of the underground labyrinth of Fleet Commands training base at the Martian site of Olympus Mons. The archive was a single manned department, and at the moment it was manned by thoroughly bored non-com who remained seated when the superior officer entered the room. If 2^nd Lieutenant Lan Ni noticed this breach of protocol she simply ignored it, and instead wasted little time making small talk. “Good morning Sergeant, I need your help with an archive search.” 

    “That so? What can I do for you lieutenant?” asked the elderly sergeant.

    “Just a moment,” answered the lieutenant as she made a fist with her left hand and raised it sternum high. She then looked directly at her ring while slightly increasing the pressure of her fist. A small sensor resembling a jewel on her multi faceted officer’s ring server instantly interfaced with the personal computer implanted her optic nerve after making a positive retinal scan. Simultaneously an image of her home page, that only she could see, appeared in front of her. She then used the fingers on her right hand and touched a couple tabs on the virtual screen, which quickly found and interfaced with the sergeant’s archive computer. She then used her right index finger and slid a file from her screen to the sergeants, and said, “I need this sergeant.”

    The old sergeant opened the very official looking file then glanced over his glasses in amused silence after reading the highly unusual search request. After an uncomfortable moment of scrutinizing the young officer for any sign of subterfuge, he finally asked, “With all due respect lieutenant, is this some kind of joke ma’am?”

    “No Sergeant, the request is genuine, and as you can see, it’s been signed by the deep space transmissions commanding officer,” replied the impatient lieutenant as she pointed out the authorizing officers virtual signature at the bottom of the tablets screen.

    The grizzled old veteran scratched his chin, looked back down at the request, then looked back over his glasses, indicating he was not quite ready to accept this highly unusual archive admission request without a further grilling of this still wet behind the ears just out of the academy officer in her new crisply pressed uniform, and self-important attitude. “Lieutenant, I’ve had my chain yanked more times than I can count by some bored officer who thinks that my last few weeks in the service should be a source for their entertainment.”

    “Sergeant, I assure you that this request came straight from the top.” The lieutenant stood her ground, not wanting to spend all day bantering with someone who was staring retirement in the face, and not overly enthusiastic about helping her with the deep dig to find the admittedly, highly unusual requested item. “I need access, and I need it now Sergeant. If need be, I’ll make this request an order.”

    Realizing that at the very least, this young officer believed that her assignment was legitimate, the sergeant acquiesced, and said, “No need for that Lieutenant, lets take a look and see what we’ve got, but I assure you, there won’t be much, if anything at all.” The sergeant then typed in the call sign authentication code for the name request on the paper, hit enter, looked at the screen, frowned, then turned to the lieutenant. “I need a password for this one.”

    The lieutenant immediately tapped another holographic screen tab and slid the page to the sergeant’s computer where more numbers, and symbols appeared on his screen. “This should work Sergeant.”

    The sergeant inwardly sighed, typed in the password, and was given instant access. “Well, we’re in Lieutenant. Now where do you expect to go from here?”

    “Type in Magellan II deep space transmission authentication codes,” replied the officer.

    “All right lieutenant. Whatever you want,” muttered the old sergeant as he typed in the request for codes. “You want me to type in a request for the Santa Clause transmission codes while I’m at it?”

    The lieutenant said nothing in response to this obvious sarcastic bait as she waited for the requested items. After several seconds of watching a blinking light on the monitor a series of unrecognizable code sequences came up on the screen.

    “Well, that would have been just too easy,” groused the sergeant looking at the screen response; ‘File not found’.

    The lieutenant pursed her lips, and asked, “I see…please don’t tell me that this is the end of the road Sergeant?”

    “Well no, not quite yet.” The sergeant’s unenthusiastic demeanor suddenly changed to one of bemused tolerance as he asked the lieutenant, “Did you happen to bring a HAZMAT to wear over that shiny clean uniform of yours ma’am?”

    “No I didn’t, why?”

    “Because Lieutenant, where you’re going hasn’t been looked at in a very long time. Hundreds of years probably.” A sly grin was beginning to spread across the archivists face.

    The young lieutenant gave the older man a suspicious glare, and told him, “You’re going to have to show me Sergeant. Don’t even think about trying to get out of this.”

    “Oh, I’ll be with you ma’am, every step of the way.” He said with the complete humility that noncom’s always reserved for soothing a young officer’s ire; “Except there’s only room for one person on top of the ladder, and these old bones just can’t make that climb anymore. That part you’ll have to do on your own.”

    “Ladder?”

    “Yes ma’am. The only information we have are some physical items that were archived hundreds of years ago, and they’re most likely stored in a sealed container,” he said with little relish, “I’m guessing it hasn’t been opened in all that time, and is buried somewhere deep, and dark.”

    “Well now, there’s no time like the present is there Sergeant? Let’s get on with it.”

    “Yes ma’am.” The old Sergeant stood up, turned to his guest, and said, “Best follow me close. It’s none too bright back where we’re going, and I hate to lose you back there. You happen to bring a flashlight with you?”

    The lieutenant patted her upper blouse pocket, under her jacket, as an indication that there was just such an item on her person. “Just lead the way, and I’ll try to keep up,” said the slightly reticent lieutenant.

    The two searchers then walked over to a set of large steel doors that the old archivist had to unlock. Once inside it was pitch black, with a dank smell, but the Sergeant hit a number of breaker switches next to the main entrance, and with loud popping noises multiple rows of lights came on, seemingly forever, one row at a time at a time. After an interminable minute had passed the entire archive room was finally lit up, albeit dimly. It was a massive room ten meters high, and full of row after row of shelved files, and each row reached deep into the underground facility for at least four hundred meters, and as many wide, although not all the rows were in straight lines. Many simply dead-ended perpendicular into another set of shelves.

    The Lieutenant glanced scrupulosity over at the grizzled old sergeant who just shrugged his shoulders at the young woman. “This ain’t gonna be no walk in the park ma’am.”

    “Do you know where the archive box is then Sergeant?”

    “Yes ma’am. I reckon so, anyway. The computer says its file AAA 001,” came the less then confident answer.

    “And that would be found…where exactly?”

    “It should be the first file ma’am, as in the very first. That means our best chance of finding it is on the top shelf at the far corner of the very back. Hell, I’ve never even been back there. Don’t know if anyone has for generations.” The look on the lieutenant’s face let her know that she was about to make his first trip. “But let’s go see what we can dig up.”

    It took thirty minutes of pushing a wheeled cart down the aisles, hitting dead ends, backtracking, and then trying another route. As they made their way deeper into the archive room their footprints and cart tracks slowly began to be more legible in the deepening amounts of dust. It became obvious that they were the first visitors to go to their final destination in a very long time. It was darkly lit, and filthy, just like the old man had said it would be. It had obviously not been visited in multiple decades, and maybe even longer. There were no rollway ladders close by, but the shelves themselves had built in ladders every five meters. As the two looked up at the top shelve the lieutenant’s flashlight found a barely discernible AAA written on a plaque on the second shelf. It was obvious that young officer would have to make the climb up the ladder.

    “Here Lieutenant, you better take this with you,” as the Sergeant gave her a spray can.

    “What’s this for?” asked the Lieutenant.

    “It’s bug spray ma’am. You just never know what kind of critters might have been breeding down here for God knows how long.”

    “But, this is Mars Sergeant. There are no insects on Mars.”

    “A lot of these old file crates came from Earth ma’am, and there’s just no telling what kind of critters hitched a ride. Best take the can just in case.”

    The lieutenant reluctantly took the spray can, tucked it in her tunic pocket, and climbed up to the top row of shelves. She switched her pocket flashlight back on, and scanned the shelf. At first she saw nothing that indicated that it had anything to do with the Magellan II, but as she crawled further up and deeper into the shelf she saw an ancient corroded looking metal strongbox with some kind of engraving on the side. The engraved words were not completely legible, but after brushing on them with the sleeve of her uniform a word slowly emerged. At last the feint image of the word ‘MAGELLAN II” was barely readable, but to the lieutenant, there was no doubt that this was what she was looking for.

    She grabbed a hold to move it, but at first it wouldn’t budge. It had been sitting there so long that even though it was made from stainless steel, some corrosion, and hundreds of years of dust collection had actually melded the box and the shelf together. She finally sat down, braced her back against a shelf girder, then placed her feet against the old box and kicked as hard as she could. The box suddenly broke free, slid across the metal shelf, and fell off the ledge, making a huge metallic banging sound as it hit the floor five meters below.

    The old Sergeant yelped in surprise, then called out, “Are you ok up there Lieutenant?”

    “No worse for wear,” came the sheepish answer, “are you alright?”

    “Missed my by a least a meter ma’am. I had stepped back some, just in case,” answered the experienced archivist, “Can’t say that what’s inside that box is alright though.”

    “The latches on the box are completely corroded shut. Let’s take it up front to open it,” said the lieutenant as she climbed down from the shelves in a now filthy uniform.

    “You look like you’ve been rolling in the s**t…ma’am,” mused the old man.

    “At least I didn’t see any of your critters Sergeant,” said the soiled officer as she tried to brush off some of the ancient dust from her uniform.

    “At least none that you can see ma’am. Here, I’ll help you push it up these isles, and we’ll take it back to my office.”

    “What do you mean, ‘none that I can see’?” asked the suddenly alarmed young officer.

    “Never know what kind of critters breed down here ma’am.” Then grinned at the now suspicious lieutenant. “Some you can see. Most you can’t. Best take a decontamination shower soon as possible.”

    The two placed the heavy box on the cart that they had brought with them, and wheeled it up to the front office. Before leaving the archive room they stopped by a maintenance locker. From it the sergeant took a small hand held laser cutter, and a pry bar to cut the latches loose, and pry the lid open, but when it was finally opened they found very little material: just some old printout schematics, and a small plastic box that contained some strange looking small metal and plastic sticks. Luckily, none looked broken from the fall.

    “What the hell are these things Sergeant? Any ideas?”

    “Aw crap…ma’am. Yeah, I know what they are,” said the downcast sergeant, “They’re called USB drives, and were used to store information several hundred years ago. I’ve got an old adapter that’ll allow us to access it around here somewhere. I’ll go try to find it.”

    After the old Sergeant rambled off the lieutenant looked at the plasticized hard copy of the ships schematic. “This thing is absolutely massive,” thought the young officer; “Our biggest ships aren’t even quarter this size today. Maybe the legends were true after all.”  

    The sergeant returned after ten minutes holding a small device of a type that the Lieutenant had never seen before. “I haven’t used one of these for years sir, but we do find these old memory sticks from time to time, so this should work.”

    “Let’s give it a go Sergeant.” Realizing that this had turned out to be a far more involved process then he had originally hoped it would be.

    The device was powered up, then interfaced with the main computer, and within a few seconds a series of ancient files appeared on the screen. The sergeant opened a filed named ‘Communications”, and was instantly rewarded. “Look here sir, this file looks like it contains all the code authorizations. Hopefully, including the one you’re looking for.”

    As soon as the file was opened up the old sergeant muttered, “Well, I’ll be damned…there it is ma’am.”

    A very relieved lieutenant looked over the file, smiled, and said, “Transfer it to my tablet, then put the drive back in the case, and give it to me.”

    “Ma’am, I’m not authorized to give out any archive material without specific authorization,” protested the sergeant.

    “Do you honestly think that anybody’s going to come down here looking for this material in the next few hundred years Sergeant?” came the lieutenant’s dispassionate reply.

    “I reckon not ma’am, but I still need authorization. I really don’t want my pension fucked up because I failed to follow one of the most adhered to rules. Ma’am.”

    With a look of resignation the lieutenant decided to compromise, “Fair enough, I’ll get you the authorization, but I need to take this entire cache with me right now. Any problems with that?” she strongly asked.

     “None that I care to say ma’am.”

    “In that case, I’ll be leaving. Thank you for your help, and I’ll return with that authorization so you can retire with a clear conscious Sergeant,” the lieutenant said as she left the archive room carrying the small case of USB drives with her.

 

***

 

The lieutenant took the case, the ancient schematics, and practically ran back to the transmissions department. The officer in charge of deep space transmissions was pacing back and forth waiting for the information on the tablet in the lieutenant’s hand.

    “Did you get it Lieutenant Ni?” asked the anxious lieutenant commander. “You look like you crawled through hell and back to find it. I hope the filthy uniform was worth it.”

    “Yes sir, don’t ask me how, but it was actually archived.” Then she added, “The archivist strongly suggested that I take a decontamination shower as soon as possible sir.”

    “Let’s get this checked out first, then, by all means, go clean up.” Lieutenant Commander Anthony Bennett’s computer received the file from the lieutenant, and sat down at his terminal. He punched in a few keys, and the object of all their present consternation popped back up on the screen. He compared the files on his screen, and correlated the two codes. “It’s a match Lan. Goodness knows how, but it’s a match.”

    “What do we do now sir?” asked Lieutenant Ni.

    “Now Lieutenant? Now, you go to the de-containment room, shower, then go pack a bag, because we’re taking a shuttle over to Fleet Command at Tharsis Rise, and hand carry this to the admiral who dropped this bucket of s**t in our laps.” The captain turned back to the screen, and continued, “This authentication is going to stir up a s**t storm, and I’ll need a s**t shield to deflect some of the bigger pieces.” He looked back over at the lieutenant, and grinned, “And you Lan, are gonna be that shield.”

 

***

 

The next day the two officers from Olympus Mons were standing at parade rest in the office of Admiral Rex Ryland. The admiral was looking at the report that had been transferred to his personal screen, that contained, among other things, the code confirmation that the two had hand carried with them, and was shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re sure that this is all completely legitimate Commander? Because if I go upstairs with this and it turns out to be some elaborate hoax, then all of our asses will be sporting a new hole.”

    The lieutenant commander tried to exude a confidence that he really wasn’t necessarily feeling, but everything had checked out, and based on that criterion, he simply couldn’t dismiss it. “Yes sir. When we first received the transmission none of our equipment could decipher it, because it used a transmission technology that’s been obsolete for almost a thousand years.” He pointed at the first page of the report to indicate his point, “Then we used an ancient computer algorithm that Lieutenant Ni here dug up, and was able to finally decipher the actual transmission message.”

    “Exactly how did you come up with this ancient computer language Lieutenant?” asked the admiral.

    “I simply used process of elimination sir, and worked backwards until I got a hit.”

    “A thousand years of backwards elimination it seems,” mused the admiral.

    “Yes sir. It took several days,” answered Lieutenant Lan Ni still standing at parade rest attention, and trying hard to keep the pride out of her voice.

    “Hmm…Commander, are you positive that this message wasn’t just floating around in deep space for that thousand years before reaching us?” Admiral Ryland had turned his attention back to the lieutenant commander, and was trying to cover all angles.

    “Positively sir,” answered Bennett, who flipped the report to the next page, “As you can see, the message referenced what has to be supernova KSN 3156b, which was first observed in 3157 AD, and created what the astronomy crew are now calling the Cat Eye nebula. It took almost a decade before they even noticed the infant nebula.”

    “The Cat Eye nebula?” quizzed the admiral, “What the hell is that?”

    “I’ve got some friends over at astronomy that are actually calling it the Dragon Eye nebula…because it’s in the Draco constellation,” Lieutenant Ni quietly mentioned to no one in particular.

    Ignoring the junior officers remark Commander Bennett explained to the admiral, “Sir, it’s a gas remnant that was instantaneously formed from the binary system Kepler 2845 when the largest of the two stars went supernova. The subsequent nebula is shaped like an oval green cat eye with an odd reddish steak that stretches the from top to bottom of the interior like a cats pupil; hence the name: Cat Eye,” the commander explained, giving Ni a glance that silently indicated for her to keep anymore dragon eye references to herself, “and that was only six weeks ago sir. Since the Magellan II supposedly launched about 2180 AD, which means that this transmission has to be recent. Contemporary even,” he concluded.

    “Cats, dragons…whatever, but what I need to know is how contemporary this thing is Commander?” The probing question was asked so that the admiral had all the right answers when he was faced with a similar set of questions. “Both Aqueous, and this new nebula are both in the Draco constellation, as our young lieutenant here just mentioned, but that thing is 3500 light years across.”

    “Aqueous sir?” Asked the captain hearing this name used officially for the first time.

    The admiral seemed resolute as he answered this question, “Yes, Aqueous Captain. As you know that’s the name mentioned in the message your group picked up, and we’ve decide to go with that.” He quickly switched back to his bigger concern, “Have we verified that the distances from both Aqueous and this nebula?”

    The lieutenant commander had been expecting this obvious question, and was ready with his answer, “Sir, my team has calculated that the Cat Eye nebula is 1175 light years from us, and 1166 light years from Aqueous. So, even if there was a one percent error, the light would still reach Aqueous ten years before it reached us, and since it’s acknowledged that it took approximately ten years for deep space transmissions to reach Earth, using the type of technology the Magellan II is supposed to have had, then we have no recourse then to believe that this is legitimate. Especially in light of the transmission code authentication.” Knowing he was way out on a limb, especially with this particular subject matter, the commander took a deep breath, and concluded,  “That’s about as contemporary as it gets in interstellar deep space sir.”

    Admiral Ryland ran his hands through his thick black hair, and looked up at the commander still standing at attention. “Ok, let’s assume for a minute that this is a legitimate transmission from the Magellan II; it’s still incomplete.” He pointed at the actual message itself to make his point.

    Bennett knew that this was going to be a point of contention, and had no definitive answer to give for what was obviously in incomplete transmission. “Yes sir. I agree. It’s vague, and ambiguous.”

    “It’s also potentially ominous Commander,“ the admiral countered, “And that’s what has the top brass concerned. Now that you’ve verified the validity of the transmission codes, this takes on an entirely new emphasis. One that requires a response.”

    “A response sir?” asked the now concerned commander. “I’m not sure I understand.”

    “You have to see this from Fleet Commands perspective Bennett,” replied Ryland, “The message says, and I quote: ‘Human colony has been established from original Magellan II crew on Kepler 3211a, now known as Aqueous. Extensive intelligent indigenous life found on planet. After the recent supernova, and the birth of the green nebula in the Draco constellation we expect imminent inv…” He looked up from the report to the lieutenant commander, and pressed his point, “I believe that your guys have established that the referenced Cat Eye nebula could only mean it was created from the KSN 3156b supernova event, since it is the only one in the Draco constellation for hundreds of years, and had never been observed before. I also, however regrettably, agree that this transmission was cut off during the last word, but what does that word mean?” He asked rhetorically, then answered his own question, “It could either mean ‘invitation’, which I highly doubt, or it could mean ‘invasion’, which not only seems likely, but is what Fleet Command believes, and is now preparing for.”

    “Preparing for Admiral? Before I even had confirmation of the transmission codes?”

    “Yes Commander, as soon as you got this message, they began to prepare for any eventuality, and as we speak a star ship is being provisioned for a deep space mission to investigate.”

    Knowing that no deep space mission was ever taken lightly by Fleet Command, and that this would be the farthest, and longest ever undertaken the commander was amazed at the speed with which the decision had been made. Especially based on incomplete data. He looked at the admiral, and made the profound reflection, “Sir, by sending a star ship we’re assuming that this message was in fact, sent by the descendants of the original colonists from the Magellan II. Am I right?” he asked.

    “Yes Bennett, that’s almost a certainty,” came the Ryland’s deadpanned reply.

    “Then if so Admiral, allow me to play devil’s advocate for a moment; why did they wait a thousand years to send us a message?”

    “That question Commander, is one of the top mission directives.”

     Trying hard to hide his incredulity about the whole affair, Bennett finally decided to change the direction of the conversation. “If you don’t mind me asking Sir; what ship is being sent?”

    The admiral turned and dismissed Lieutenant Ni with a jerk of his head towards the door to his office, then walked over to the window to his office and stared out at the millions of stars beyond the horizon. “This has to stay between us for now Anthony. We’re sending the Monarch, who’ll be commanded by Rear Admiral Mason Michaels. She’s getting crewed up now, and if Fleet Command accepts this authorization code verification you’ve just brought me, then she leaves for Aqueous in two months.” He kept staring out the window as he concluded, “I’m not saying that I agree with this, but Fleet Command wants this whole thing kept quiet for the time being, and like the good old soldier that I am; I’m keeping my mouth slammed shut. I suggest that you do as well Anthony.”

    Bennett was still confused about all the mystery surrounding what would be the longest deep space mission ever conducted and in an attempt to maintain military decorum he still couldn’t help himself from asking the burning question, “Sir, if I may; why all this clandestine planning for what is sure to eventually become one of the best known missions in Space Commands history?”

    Ryland stopped staring out his window and with a look of consternation of his face he turned back to the commander and said, “Anthony, think about it. As you’ve just stated: this is the longest, and hence the most dangerous mission in our history. On top of all that the mission directive is to track down a message sent from a legendary star ship that hasn’t been heard from for a thousand years,” He gave the commander a look of pure incredulity, and went on, “a message that some might consider a wild goose chase, and therefore not worth the risk.”

    “Then why even take the risk sir?”

    The admiral sat back down at his desk, and pointed at the message still showing on his screen, “Because of those three letters ‘inv’…in that incomplete word. Space Command simply can’t ignore its’ possible implication of an invasion. However, for the time being anyway, they really don’t want to be seen as chasing geese if it turns out to be something meaningless.”

    Captain Bennett pursed his lips and slightly nodded his head in recognition as the full picture finally began to sink in and said as much to the admiral, “So, it simply comes down to politics.”

Author's Note

It's a long chapter, but I would like reviews. Good or bad.

Reviews

[Ana]

I literally loved the beginning. The whole concept of WWE is incredibly interesting and different. Wait, I have to finish reading I just had to say that first...
Your writing is really good, and I can read it as if I was reading a published book turned movie.

[Tobin]

Thank you Ana. In fact this is the opening of a book that is at the copyeditor now. Once it's finished there then it'll be ready for market. The front and back covers are already done. I just need to go in and make one final proofread before I submit it. I posted here at Writers Cafe, because I wanted feedback from real writers, because frankly, getting reviews from writers are very helpful. You might catch things that even the editor and beta readers might have missed. Anyway, I sincerely hope you like the rest of what I've posted, and your opinion has put a huge smile on my face.