Eon

Pushing away from the worn terminal, Trevor stares at the ceiling, bitter sor rowful tears filling the brim of his eyes. A quivering hand with a cigarette wrapped between his index and middle fingers makes another journey to his arid lips. Gale force winds crash into the beacon house with a ferocity he has never seen before. Lightning illuminated the skies for split seconds before being swallowed by the oppressive darkness, followed by a deep rolling thunder. The storm was not the reason for the pit of hopelessness inside of his belly; Like blood being drained from a butchered animal turned upside down, he can feel all hope leave his soon-to-be cadaver.

“Mayday, Mayday, Mayday -This is emergency traffic from the last beacon tower of the planet Thagua six of the Ashima system. An organism has arisen from the Oceans causing a cataclysmic level event of all colonies. “

“Pause recording.”

“Recording stopped.” the computer confirmed.

the first and last words that came from the first settlement to fall to the claw and tooth of the monsters were ‘The waves have eyes!’,

The waves did indeed have eyes. Marveling at the hundreds of eyes within the waves.

Terrified to look at the angry ocean. Terrified to see the horned, bulbous heads that bobbed in the churning waters. Heavy tears carved ragged streams down his face as the weight of all the sorrow settles on his narrow shoulders.

“Why are they just waiting there?”

Trevor quickly used his sleeve to wipe the tears from his face, not wanting to turn to look at him. Hands still trembling as he tried to gain control over the cigarette that was now dangling from his mouth.“I made it clear. I needed to be alone.” I heard, but I know better” Marvin placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “No one needs to be alone, not in times like this.”

Changing the subject, Marvin asked, “why haven’t they tried the shields or attack. They seem to be just. Waiting,”

“They stay in the water during storms,” Trevor answered, his jaw tight with tension.

“So, the storm is the only thing that’s keeping us alive now?”.

Trevor took another slow drag, filling his lungs with the herbal smoke for a couple of seconds, then slowly exhaled, releasing the smoke through his flared nostrils. An understanding of why people of ancient earth wanted that last cigarette before facing the firing squad.

“They are waiting for the others; they like to attack in huge numbers. Every time I look out that fucking window,” a shiver ran down his spine as he peered into the gloom. “It seems like a hundred more pairs of eyes are staring back at me.”

Marvin joined him at the observation window. The rain came down in angry sheets; titanic waves slammed into the coastal shields, causing an eerie green hue in the night. Both men stood silent as the howl of the wind continued.

Was it the wind, or the chorus of the creatures? Trevor wondered, looking down at his watch.

For the first time, Trevor looked at Marvin. He noticed his eyes were red with grief and fear. Trevor imagined that he, himself of a reflection of the man standing in front of him. Trevor pulled him close and for a moment, they just held each other.

“Let me finish the call,” reluctantly pulling away from his partner’s grip.

“What’s the point? When the storm breaks- in the next couple of hours….” sobs swallowed the rest of his words. Pulling him close, kissing him on the forehead; Trevor cupped his face with his hands, catching his tears.

“Don’t say it, please don’t say that don’t give up hope,” tears flowing again down his narrow face, gaunt with exhaustion.

“We have been sending the same message for the last six months… since…”

“I know!” his anger and frustration spilling over. Marvin recoiled from the flash eruption of emotion.

Trevor brought both his hands to his head, pulling at his thinning hair, taking a deep breath, trying to calm down.

“Don’t you think I know this?” trying to pull his anger back in.

“It’s the only chance we have, if we stop broadcasting anyone out there will give up and consider us a dead world.” Looking back at his watch, fighting to keep his tears at bay.

“We are just so far from any other federation world; the closest outpost is a six-month voyage.”

“We know. Our only chance is to get these messages out. In the hopes, it reaches a passing convoy, or better yet a drop team.”

“Start recording.”

“All planet-side survivors are now in the coastal city of Xolas. The creatures have overwhelmed all spaceports.” Trevor paused, hands on his hips, looking down and the floor. He had to take a second to compose himself while taking a glance at Melvin, who was sitting down at the table with his hands clasped together between his knees.

“There are only sixty-five hundred of us left. We are requesting assistance and evacuation. The seasonal storm off the coast is the only thing that is keeping them at bay. We are gearing up for our last stand.” Making a session of keystrokes, an image of the creature appeared on the screen.

“I am sending all updated information we have on the creatures; in the hopes, this will help you better prepare… Please don’t give up on us.”

“Send message.”

“Message sent,” the computer confirmed.

Trevor kneeled next to Marvin, wiping the tears from his tired face.

“Go try to get some sleep. I will keep watch,”

“I won’t be able to sleep. I want to keep you company,” a frail smile struggled to make it across his face, moving his hand to Marvin’s thigh, giving him a squeeze.

Marvin unfolded his hands and cupped Trevor’s face, smiling back at him. There was nothing else to be said between the two. Exhaustion took the two men within minutes, as the storm continued to rage.

“Wake up,” terror had a firm grip on Marvin’s arm as he glared out the window. “The storm is breaking up. They are testing the coastal shields.”

“Damn it!” Trevor was instantly awake and bounded towards Marvin.

“how long were we out?”

“Just four hours, the sun is coming up,”

“I’ve made the call to Command and made them aware.” The morning was gloomy with a thick fog that swirled around the beachhead, making it impossible to see the creatures.

“Are the shields holding up?”

“No major hits yet. Seems like they are probing us though,”

“One hundred percent, so far no breeches.”

“Roger that,”

“Why aren’t we bombarding them?”

“We decided to wait, in hopes that the shields vaporize as many of them it can before it fails. We are going to save our firepower until then.”

“This is it, isn’t it Trevor? I don’t want to be ripped apart by those things,” panic finally took him.

“I don’t want to get eaten alive,” Grasping at Trevor’s shirt, eyes wide with a primal fear.

“We won’t,” Trevor calmly produced a gun from his holster.

“I promise you, I won’t allow that to happen to us. We will go out together. On our terms.”

“We will fight till our last shell,” Trevor paused, steeling himself.

“We all agreed that once the time comes, we would rather atomize ourselves as a people than to be used as the main course of these bastards.” Pointing out a window.

Thunder shook the beacon house again, then again and again. Trevor stood up.

That doesn’t sound like thunder. The storm has clearly passed. Glancing over at Marvin, who had the same questions swirling through his head, Trevor figured. Marvin also stood up; both made their way to the window as purple-blue blossoms speckled over the dense fog.

“That’s not thunder.” For the first time in months, he sounded hopeful.

“Those sounds like sub-atmospheric reemergence booms.”

“Incoming message,”

“Accept transmission!”

“Connection established,”

“This is Asukari, from the 13th company. We have heard your call. We will assist with the evacuation and protection of your sixty-five thousand souls.”

****The 13th****

Standing impatiently by one of the most precious pieces of equipment on her ship, her thoughts were unreadable. The machine teased her, Kizi mused. It rarely takes this long. Another thought crossed his mind, wondering if one guy had been messing with the inner workings of the machine. Playing a prank, of course. It must have been Angelo and his bunch, he thought as he waited. The machine finally let out a flat beep, signaling the end of its crucial purpose. A stream of steaming dark brown fluid filled her purple mug. A strong smell of cinnamon, mint and a trace of citrus filled the war room. Kizi waited patiently for her to finish her brew routine. She didn’t have too many quirks; this was one of them. The war-room was a place the crew met to create action plans, debrief, and sometimes simply just hang out, pass the time. Sweeping up the cup as if it was the most precious thing in the cosmos.

“You were saying Kizi”, she turned on her heel, giving an imaginary toast towards.

“Please carry on, you have my undivided attention now,” looking down at the brew then back up at him, shrugging her shoulders.

“I believe we were discussing the concerns of the new intel we have just received,”

“Oh that, does that worry you, Kizi? I wouldn’t be too worried about it,” taking a loud sip.

“It’s my job to worry ma’am, These Garmainians will be a problem. We don’t have anyone who has never faced them before, hell until a couple of hours ago I thought they were a myth.” an uncomfortable chuckle escaped him.

“To scale please,” the computer, reading his tone, followed his command.

The room darkened, while the holo-table produced a hologram of a Garmanian on cue.

“Most beings are biologically predictable, but these things,”

“Being,” she corrected

“Of course, this being,”, correcting himself.

“Is just a different story,” not missing a beat from the interruption.

“A standard Garmanian stands around six meters, weighing in at around four tons,”

He walked around the massive being taking in its unbelievable details, amused by his worry she leaned back against the wall crossing her arms, before taking another long drag of her brew, her dark eyes like black pearls suspended within her clear milky white sclera are watching him closely.

“It’s not their size that makes them unique, or causes me to lose sleep at night.”

“Show action sequence number one,”

The image flicked from a still hologram to a vid that shows three heavily armed Garmainians attacking what looked like a heavily armed military complex. It was like watching three small hills converge on a complex. One of the Garmanians laid down suppressive fire as the other two attacked the complex rushed in. The effect was impressive. Buildings fell, walls blew apart like a child kicking down a stack of blocks.

“As you can see, these two don’t even bother to use any projectile weapons,” rubbing his temples with his eyes closed, trying to fight off the tension that was building from within.

“No, they have the nerve to use a fucking type of ax and what looks like a club.”

He turned to look at Asukari. Her demeanor hasn’t changed at all. She was still in the same position, casually leaning on the wall and looking at him. Those eyes always seemed to look deep into his DNA. It unnerved him. Not every time, mind you, but times like this. Those eyes watched him like what he imagined a god would look at its creation. Making sure everything was working right with it. Kizi had secretly come to grips long ago that she wasn’t human, even though all the tests show she was.

“Of course, we have weapons to put down most beings,”

“Of course.” She added.

“The issues with the Garmaininians are their ability to control their bodies’ mass and density,” pushing his earlier thoughts aside, working to stay on task.

“I foresee the major challenge will be to determine which weapon will give the desired effect. I don’t think we have anyone on the roster, even with power armor that will go toe to toe with just one of these. Let alone ten.”

Taping her cup softly, Kizi could tell this had caught her attention.

“Ten Garmaininians Huh?”

“So, you’re saying we shouldn’t accept the assignment?”

Kizi blinked at the response, not sure how to take the question.

“That’s not my choice to make, commander,”

“I understand that Kizi, if you were in command would you have taken this assignment?”

No longer leaning on the wall, casually making her way towards the brew maker, a slight hand gesture gave the computer a command to mute the sound of the vid. The onslaught of the facility by three Garmaininians continued in an eerie silence.

Kizi paused to exam the question carefully. Knowing she wasn’t trying to make him look bad, that wasn’t her way of doing things. He had the feeling that he was being pushed towards something. A direction or purpose which only she knew.

A Test he thought, but why?

It wasn’t making any sense to him. His thoughts raced, trying to put it all together, as she made it to her machine, humming a tune he was unfamiliar with. Something deep down, something instinctive, warned he needed to produce an answer before she finished filling her cup.

Her tone had been plain and nonconfrontational.

So why am I taking it as a confrontation, and what would happen if he didn’t answer the question until after she picked up the cup and turn towards him?

“Priority message commander”, the computer voice echoed through the chamber.

She gave another hand gesture, barely perceivable. Silence again filled the room. The fluid again fell out of the machine, filling his cup. Kizi felt like it was a reverse hourglass. Instead of an event happening with the loss of sand, he felt that when her cup was full, something would indeed happen.

“Yes commander, I would have taken the assignment.”

“Even now, knowing about the Garmaininians?”

“Yes, Commander,”

“Please spare me with all the commander shit Kizi, it’s just you and me in here,” waving her hand like clearing a smoke-filled room, dismissing the formality of the title.

Picking up the cup, taking a sip. Kizi thought he saw a tease of a smile run across her full lips before the cup covered her mouth.

“I want us to be on the same page Kizi, that is very important to me.”

“It is to me also comm-, Asukari,” quickly correcting himself.

“Ok, now let us get back to business, shall we?”

Just like that, the tension evaporated from the room. He often left him puzzled by her interesting ways he often called it. It seems like her mind is always processing multiple streams of information at once. Much like the computer that ran the ship, her memory seemed as vast as the galaxy. Her potential surpassed any living being he has ever seen. She was probably the dangerous being in the Galaxy. He just didn’t believe that she knew it yet. If she did, he thanked Allah she allowed him to be by her side.

“Show me the target ship, Kizi.”

“Of course, target ship computer,”

“Target vessel one zero, one, one, for mission G-force.” The computer declared.

“As I was saying earlier, the Garmainains are the biggest threat. My battle plan is to materialize from slip space and send our long-range lasers to slag the area where the Garmainains area of the ship. Simultaneously, we would take out all their defensive weapons and send the boarding parties.”

She stood next to him, studying the schematics of the massive cargo ship. She nodded slowly while he continued his tactical plan. The tension from earlier slightly eased the tight grip it had on him, but not totally, but now he was in his element the tactics. Tactics are where the success or the failure of an operation originates. It’s the Alpha and the Omega, a good action plan you can achieve your objective. With a great action plan, you can achieve your objective, and everyone gets back safe while causing maximum damage to the enemy. A poor plan, well that’s just unacceptable in his mind. He has been a part of all three levels of plans: the good, bad, and the ugly. He has the scars as reminders of the ugly ones, losing some good friends, and losing whole worlds. Preferring to stay on the good side of things, plans crafted with care, and by the book. He had a talent for knowing his team’s abilities and placing them in a position of strength.

“Angelo’s team would enter the spine of the ship that runs to the Command center of the ship and take it.”

“Angelo is a good choice for that,” she confirmed

“Our latest data shows the location of the target should be on the fifty-first deck in the brig. I will lead the extraction team.”

“Sounds good Kizi, I will have to change a couple of things.”

“Oh?” Looking at her quizzingly

“Did I miss something?”

“No, I just received another mission objective”

“Just now?”

“A while ago,” she admitted.

He recalled the computer message to her. He assumed her hand gesture was to pause the message for later. Like all members of the 13th, she had sensors nodes embedded within her. With these nodes, the computer and other shipmates could stream data to the receiver. Nodes placed on the zygomatic bones of the skull received audible information. The vibrations would travel the bone directly to the cochlea. The photoreceptor nodes injected, millions of nanobots flood the bloodstream and attach to the occipital nerves where a being can see the information. Like a computer in your head. It takes some getting used to, but most can master it within a couple of hours. For most beings, it would have been obvious they had taken a message, let alone going through streams of complex data. He knew she had been streaming through the message, listening to him, processing the plan, making corrections to the plan with the new information, all the while drinking and enjoying her brew.

“Hmmm, this mission just got a lot more interesting Kizi”

“Looks like I will come with you.” She said with a wolfish grin.

Kizi's face twisted in frustration.

“Wah,” he couldn’t contain his shock.

“When we emerge, take out their defensives, we are not to slag the Garmainains, turns out they are our responsibility now,”

“You got to be shitting me,” rubbing his head again,

She slapped him on the back with a smile.

“Don’t worry Kizi, I will lead a team to deal with the Garmainains.”

“I will make the changes and upload the data, prepare the teams.”

“Yes, of course”

“Oh, and Kizi.” She paused at the door.

“I’m kind of hurt that you didn’t think I’ve dealt with the Garmainains before. We go way back.”

Vanishing through the corridor, leaving Kizi in the command room, rubbing his temples.

The Federation of United Worlds.

Within the Orion-Cygnus arm of the milky way galaxy, nestled deep within the refractory dust grains of long-dead matter that ignited the universe, lies the tiny blue marble of Earth. Birthplace of man, now the seat of power of the Federation of United Worlds. Its Emperor sits at his desk, alone, deep in thought. They often found him deep within his own mind, obsessing over the expansion of the empire, of humanity. The Federation has grown to control twenty-one worlds. As with any budding empire, there had been trouble along the way, because of the malcontents, the unfaithful. The growth of the empire has slowed. The ones that didn’t agree with mankind’s glorious purpose. His forehead wrinkled with frustration as he awaited a message. A message that could accelerate the growth of the empire, while simultaneously eradicating the takers. The ones that want to suck from the tit of the empire. The planets that dared to separate from the human idea.

His electric blue eyes scanned his office, the portraits of all the Tzar-Emperors before him. The men that had the courage to lead man, not only to the stars but to dominate other lowly life forms. His eyes rested on the portrait that was placed on the spot that hung before his immaculately painted profile. Disgust fumed from his pores at the whore emperor-has they called him, the weakest of all ten known leaders of man. Succeeding him had been one headache after another, yet he embraced his role. History has shown that every emperor had a role in the empire's rise, like the brick and mortar of a great wall. He understood his place, his responsibility.

Sometimes to build you must teardown, he thought.

A golden com orb silently floated around him, like a moon in orbit around Jupiter. The soft blinking light signaling his wait was at an end.

“Go ahead,”

“My Tzar, I have gone over all the documents of the reparation world Thagua six, the wording states the Federation acknowledges the planet as a solvent world.”

“Yes, Yes I am aware,” he snapped, interrupting his trusted advisor “I need to know how we can get the world back into the fold of the empire without political backlash.”

“Yes, my Tzar, I’m getting to that. You may find it interesting,” Unruffled by impatient Tzar’s outburst. “All three of our reparation worlds the wording is the same, the Federation cannot take up arms of the worlds, but we are responsible for another two hundred and five years of tithes.”

“Here is the most interesting part.”

The Tzar Emperor leaned forward towards the message globe as if waiting to hear some juicy gossip from a friend.

“If by an act of God, a non-manmade event extinguishes the people of the world, the federation can take the said world, absorbing it back into the whole.”

“Hmm, that is interesting indeed. How can we achieve this? We need that planet Havid, not its people.”

“I think you will find the answer has already embedded into the question, set by who you call the Whore-Emperor.”

Astonished, the Tzar emperor sat back in his chair, looking back at the portrait of the long-dead emperor.

“What did he do?”

Thagua six: Three months before the event.

Isaiah sat in his classroom, smitten by his third-grade teacher. He wasn’t sure, but he knew it had to be love, that is what Dean said anyway. Ms. Murphy stood in front of her group of students with a grace he had never seen before in his eight years of life. Her hair was short on the sides and puffy up top with a splash of platinum on the very top. She wore a robe that was the standard issue of color, bone-white base color with gold red and aqua blue patterns. Her skin resembled roasted almonds with a burst of freckles that scattered across her face. Today was a special day. It was her birthday. Today, he would give her a gift that she would love. She would notice him; the thought made his heart beat a little faster and his hands became moist with anticipation. He and his older sister went out into the backyard and found the best flowers, twelve in all. The colors were a spectacular assortment of colors. When picked, they dehydrated and synthesized into small flakes and placed in a pretty vase he had made in his art class three weeks earlier. Students would leave a gift on the teacher's desk. The excitement built. She would love the vase. When he uses the hydration solution, the bouquet would burst back into its original splendor, fresh as if he walked in from the fields. His mind wandered like many eight-year-olds. Binary suns crept through the beautiful midmorning sky. The window had captured his attention as he daydreamed. The playground was over the small hill, carpeted in purple grass that swayed in the breeze. He could see him and Ms. Murphy on the swings together, or better yet, a picnic. He had seen his mom and dad do that a lot. They would lie out on a blanket and just sit together and talk. His nose crinkled a bit. He hoped Ms. Murphy could talk about other things, things other than science or history, he wondered. He was outstanding at those subjects. Maybe they could read a good comic or watch a vid.

“Isaiah?” his back stiffened. Did he miss something?

“Yes, Ms. Murphy,” part panic and part elation washed over him.

“Can you please recall the event that started the foundation of our planet?”

Thankful that he knew the answer, he stood up from his desk to address the class.

“After the Federation of united worlds decided all non-humans were no longer welcome, it started a wave of unrest that became united under the banner of the Being Sedition Act, or the B.S.A,”

With a nod of approval, “Good job Isaiah.” “Who were the members of this group?”

Dean quickly raised his hand.

“Yes, Dean,”

“The B.S.A comprised most non-humans that called earth their home along with other marginalized humans that became totally disenfranchised with the rigid system of the time.”