Fiction logo

Inside Aitken

The Aitken Lunar Base served as the world's line of defense against off-world threats. Affectionately called the Terminal, it was a galactic center of diplomacy and a station capable of operating technologies to defend Earth from extinction-level threats from the stars. All Commander Jasper Jackson has to do is remember he's not a soldier anymore and can't think like a killer.

By Jason Ray Morton Published 2 years ago โ€ข 11 min read
6
Image by Peace,love,happiness from Pixabay

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. There's no way to be sure who said it first, but they were dead wrong. Even three years later, Jasper could hear the screams of his brothers and sisters. Those screams are what haunted his dreams. He saw their faces when he closed his eyes. The fear in their eyes was readable, like a headline. The sounds of their voices only quieted after they were hurled thousands of feet from our ship, hurled into the void of space.

Space wasn't the vacuum Earth's scientific minds deemed it to be. No, the truth was different than what recruits were lead to believe. It may be dark, despite the light of stars millions of miles away. Space is cold and unforgiving. One thing space isn't; it's not is quiet. What people back home failed to realize is that space is alive.

Through the darkness and the endless void, a twenty-thousand-ton piece of rock flew overhead as it cast a shadow across landing strip Alpha. From the surface, the shadow appeared to move quite slowly. The asteroid causing the shadow was moving at seventy-thousand miles per hour. Its presence set off the early warning alarms alerting NASA, The Joint Propulsion Labs, The IAU, The White House, and the personnel working at the Terminal.

Flashing lights were a bad sign. The alarms ringing throughout the security wing alerted the military arm of The Terminal. The entire day shift roster scrambled to get dressed and report to their stations an hour early. That was everyone except Jasper.

Jasper Jackson rolled over in his bunk, scratching at the stubble on his chin as he struggled to find his com-link. Jasper looked at the screen, annoyed by the flashing blue lights blinking incessantly against the darkness of his suite. These events had happened before, and they were going to happen again. Looking at the alert message, he pressed the green button on the side and called the operations center for an update.

"This is Jackson, he said, hearing his gravelly voice. "Give me a status report."

"Sir," a voice responded from the operations center. "It's an Alpha class asteroid. Its designation is 2024 XF01. It passed by at nearly 800 miles and is heading into space."

"Another asteroid," sighed Jackson.

He spent more time policing asteroid threats and assuring the solar shields were operational than being a soldier. The Space Force he was a part of wasn't the Space Force he remembered, but it was a job that needed doing.

"Alright, sound the all-clear once it's made it to the minimum distance," he ordered. "Get me the report on its trajectory for the morning briefing."

"Yes, sir," responded the officer on the radio.

Jasper knew his day was starting soon. Rubbing his temples, he looked up at the drab gray ceiling, wishing he saw something more colorful than the gunmetal-gray walls of the staff quarters. Taking the command post at the Terminal was a great opportunity. But, after five years, he was feeling restless. If not for the Hawaiian print bedding he used, his off time would be drab, like the walls surrounding him.

"Computer, start the coffee," ordered Jasper, rolling his battle-scarred legs off the edge of his bed.

Jasper reached to his nightstand and turned on a light. A pack of cigarettes and his father's lighter with his old platoon's insignia rested next to the lamp. Technically, they were considered contraband on the base, but he had connections that would bring him a carton every two weeks. He used his dad's old lighter and lit up. That first-morning drag caught him by surprise. It was harsher than usual and tasted different.

"Where did these come from?" he wondered.

Briefly reading the package, knowing it wasn't his usual Turkish blend, he cringed at the site of Cyrillic on the bottom. Global warming and climate change were catching up to even the tobacco industry. Now, he was stuck with cheap Russian tobacco.

"Dammed imports," he said to himself, ripping off the Russian tag on the box.

Jasper stumbled to his feet, shakily making his way into the lavatory to take a morning piss. He struggled to pee, him being in his second year of suffering bouts of prostatitis. There wasn't a urology-certified doctor assigned to the Terminal, and telling the joint chiefs he needed time away could jeopardize his command.

Finally, having peed, showered, and dressed, he walked through his quarters and opened his computer. He viewed his schedule for the day. Between visiting dignitaries, immigration hearings, a security inspection, and a J.S.O.C. briefing to attend, Jasper had a full day ahead of him.

Jasper took his coffee over to the windows and opened the blinds. The best part of his day was the morning view from his quarters. As the sun slowly shone over the top ridge of the Aitken basin, lighting up the base and surrounding operations, he felt the Terminal's impact on the system. From his post at the Terminal, Jasper could defend his world from Scrum.

Showered and in his uniform, Jasper walked through the gray-painted corridor toward the lifts. He waived his identicard in front of the controls, causing the door to lift two to whisk open. Once inside, he gave the voice command to take him to the operations center. The door whisked again as it closed and transported Jasper from the upper level of the Terminal residences to the command and control center. Once there, he stepped out to the morning greeting of one of his men.

"Good morning, sir," a young Corporal said.

"Jones, how are things today?" he asked in passing.

"Qui..." the young corporal stopped himself. "Under control, sir!" he exclaimed after nearly breaking the first rule of wearing a uniform, never to say "quiet" on duty.

He knew what the young officer had done. Jasper gave an approving good job, Jones to the young officer, and continued on his way to the pit. The pit, a low area in command and control, served as a bullpen for the officers that protected the civilian visitors, travelers, dignitaries, and businesses operating out of the Terminal. Jasper didn't have to go through the pit, but he cut through the center of the activity every morning, making sure he was available to his team. On the outer edge of the circular area called the pit were analytics, security stations, long-range monitoring stations, the communications personnel, and effectively everything else needed to bring in an authorized landing craft or alert security to an intruder. There were rooms bordering the walkway around the pit, each with a purpose. The armory, training rooms, conference rooms, and the A.T.C were all on level one and readily accessible.

Jasper found his way up the staircase on the east side of the room and to his office, stopping briefly before entering. He looked for one member of his team in particular. Somewhere, in the sea of uniforms starting their shifts, was likely Kara Doonz. Kara would have his morning briefing packet with her. It was something he needed before the morning video conference with the White House and the Pentagon back home.

"Looking for me?"

Jasper turned, looking for the female voice behind him. In his doorway stood a female staff member. Kara was the only non-human stationed at the Terminal. He met her during the Scrum incursion. They were both locked in the brig, albeit for only a brief time. Since then, she'd been his number two, a confidant, and friend. Kara was wearing a beaming smile along with her blue uniform. For the first time since coming to the Terminal, she was in and ready before he was, and she was relishing in her victory.

"What time?"

She repeated the question, coyly faking her ignorance.

"Yes. What time did you get in?" asked Jasper.

Kara chuckled, "Wouldn't you like to know?"

The two went into the office and sat at Jasper's desk while Kara brought him up to speed. There wasn't a lot that happened in just six hours. Two different transport ships landed, then refueled. As usual, there was an altercation between the two crews, ending in a scuffle at the Watering Hole. NASA sent out another in a lengthy list of alerts about coronal eruptions.

"Another C.M.E?" he sighed.

"Third one this week," said Kara. "They're getting more violent each time. NASA thinks this one's an X3 level storm."

"When is it expected to reach us?"

"Kara looked through her notes. "Two days, boss."

Jasper wrote down the news of the eruption and entered information into the data server on his desk. He looked at Kara, expecting what came next.

"The A.T.C. is on alert. Six hours before the event, they'll start redirecting non-essential flights, and engineering is inspecting the solar arrays now to be sure we can fire the shield generators," she explained.

"Jesus," sighed Jasper. "You almost don't need me at all, kid."

"Oh, and if you want to do the thing...well, it's all set," sighed Kara, looking at the photo of Commander Jackson and a wide-eyed lady pilot in his arms.

Kara got rescued the same night of the Scrum incursion into the galaxy. That was the night that Izzy died. Her screams were what Jackson heard at night. The look on her face, holding onto the edge of the bulkhead, desperately trying to hang on long enough for the shields to kick in around the hull damage. She was the only one that knew how desperate he was to have gone with her.

"After the shift is over," he somberly nodded.

An alert tone on his desk went off, telling him there was a call. Looking at his watch, Jasper knew it was time for his meeting. Kara left the office quietly, looking over her shoulder as Jasper put the eight by ten of his wife back in its' spot. She could almost feel his pain.

"Mr. President, General Richards," said Jasper. "Only the three of us today?"

"Jasper," General Richards hesitated. "There's no easy way to say this, but things have changed dramatically, and it requires us to make some changes as well."

"Whatever I can do, sir," said Jasper, confused.

"That's good to hear," said the President, "We will need your cooperation, and I'm afraid we'll need you to go further above the call of duty than you normally do, son."

"Yes, sir," Jasper said, addressing President Mathers.

"Son," the President asked, "Are you familiar with the ore that powers the shield generators protecting not just Earth but also the bases on the moon?"

"That's the Triptyllium that we use to fuel the generators and fire the shield if I'm not mistaken," answered Jackson, already not liking the direction things were going.

"Well, as you know, there has been a long-standing fight for control over the ore. The people of Nibiru and the Andorians are arriving today for a conference."

"Yes, sir, that's the plan up here," said Jasper.

"Son, there is one more party that we need you to accept at The Terminal as a dignitary. Another player has just become heavily involved in the mining process and acquired a considerable amount of the ore," explained General Richards.

"Sure, no problem. Who are we expecting?" Jackson asked, getting ready to write it down.

"It's the Scrum, Jax," admitted the General.

Jasper sat there, staring blankly at the faces of the two leaders he answered to, and was amazed they would even consider putting him through an encounter with the Scrum. He barely heard the General telling the President that it might be best if the two talked alone. As one screen went blank, he stared intensely at the other.

"There's no fracking way. I'm not hosting a Scrum delegation, Luke! What the hell are you thinking?" demanded Jackson.

"Jax," the General motioned for him to calm down. "What I'm about to tell you is top secret. The next solar cycle is possibly the last if the temperatures keep rising on Earth and we run out of energy. There is nothing down here that will generate that kind of power. Without it, everybody on Earth is dead in two years.

"You know what the Scrum cost me. You know more than anybody. Not only was she your daughter, Luke, but she was carrying your grandchild. You can't expect me to do this," he told his Commander.

"I'm afraid I have no choice. You'll host the delegation and oversee the negotiations, or I have to strip your command and bring you home, Commander," ordered the General. "Now, son, what's it going to be? Will you do what is needed to help keep the world protected, or will you let the world perish that my daughter died to defend?"

Jackson knew the answer, but he couldn't believe he was going to say, "Yes, sir. I'll get it done."

"Great, I'll check in with you at the end of today to see how things went," said the General. "Richards out."

Kara rushed into Jasper's office. "Boss, you've got to get down here."

Jasper ran alongside Kara as the command and control center was on alert. Getting to weapons, Jasper looked on as a younger officer locked weapons on three incoming craft.

"Sir, it's the Scrum."

Image by Stefan Keller from Pixabay

Jasper could hear the words in his head. "Open Fire!"

Sci Fi
6

About the Creator

Jason Ray Morton

I have always enjoyed writing and exploring new ideas, new beliefs, and the dreams that rattle around inside my head. I have enjoyed the current state of science, human progress, fantasy and existence and write about them when I can.

Reader insights

Outstanding

Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!

Top insights

  1. Excellent storytelling

    Original narrative & well developed characters

  2. Easy to read and follow

    Well-structured & engaging content

Add your insights

Comments (4)

Sign in to comment
  • Rick Henry Christopher 2 years ago

    Well done. Good read.

  • Chezney Martin2 years ago

    Your story brought me back to the first time I watched Prometheus. Well done!

  • Babs Iverson2 years ago

    Terrific story & read. Loving it!๐Ÿ’–๐Ÿ’•

  • Carol Townend2 years ago

    I loved reading this Jason. It reminded me of Star Trek in some ways. I'm guessing that may be something you like!

Find us on social media

Miscellaneous links

  • Explore
  • Contact
  • Privacy Policy
  • Terms of Use
  • Support

ยฉ 2024 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.