The War Across the Stars

THE WAR ACROSS THE STARS

By Alex K. Pennington



Prologue

We were watching, waiting in the cold, harsh weather of Marzoc.  Nevin was to my right.  Our fingers were on the triggers, despite them being numbed by the cold.  Admiral Cope was in our scopes.  We could have fired but instead we held our fire.  We followed orders and waited.

The man in charge of the entire UED fleet marched from his gunship toward a larger tent in the center of the camp.  Admiral Cope entered the central command tent.  Robert followed him in.  We waited for the explosion.  It didn’t come.

Part I

The Vorgian War

Chapter 1

The Start of a War

“All right boys” Colonel Miller said, “Our unstable relationship with the Vorgians is crumbling.  War is imminent.  That is why we need to prepare you for action,” he continued.  “I want you all here at 1200 hours.” 

“Yes sir,” we responded. 

We were excited. Our first action… Most of us didn’t know what we were getting into.  Nevin Poffinbarger was my closest friend.  He stood beside me as we listened to the large man who stood before us.  We left the briefing chambers and went to the mess hall.

It was mostly quiet in the mess hall.  We were thinking of what it would be like, and the adventures to be had.  Our team of five civilians and a former Navy pilot were an odd bunch to send into a war, especially as special ops.  But the government had a plan.  In fact, it was an extremely successful plan.

Ryan Dunkelman was bound to be our squad leader.  He was nearly twenty-eight revolutions old and had combat experience as a squadron leader.  He apparently had also survived a crash deep in enemy territory.  He had thin layer of stubble around his mouth, despite the shaven preference of the military.  His hair was a light shade of brown.

Philip Fergensen was a smart man from a wealthy family.  He was only a revolution younger than Ryan, but he was a bit larger.  For a smart guy, he had plenty of muscle.  His hair was exceptionally short, as he preferred the buzz cut to anything longer.

Max Pippin was basically an idiot.  He had no respect for Col. Miller and was always making jokes.  Most of us didn’t much care for him.  His dark blonde hair was the longest out of our squad and he commonly stood around with his mouth in a crooked smile.  He was the youngest out of our group at a mere twenty revolutions, but that was no excuse for his behavior.  I doubt he had any idea what was in store for him.

Robert Washington was an odd character that always gave me a strange feeling.  He seemed like the type that enjoys killing.  The kind of person who would become a serial killer if it weren’t for the military.  But I guess you would expect to find one or two like that in the armed forces.  The military makes a great way to keep them in line and put them to good use.  I could only hope they’d keep Robert in line.  At least men of his type were usually good in combat.

Finally, there was Nevin who sat beside me while we ate.  He had jet-black hair that was about as long as mine.  We both shared the same carefully trimmed hairstyle, but with varying color.  Nevin was twenty-four revolutions old, which was the same age as me.  We had attended school together when we were younger, and both had families in Ebony, Euphola.  My parents and sister still lived there.  I hoped that I would get to see them again soon.

Five minutes before 1200 hours, we went to our lockers and grabbed our SR-4’s. The base, located on the military stronghold of Euphola, wasn’t all too large.  We could quickly move from place to place without concern for being late, though I thought we should try being early. We walked the short way to the briefing chambers.

When we arrived, Colonel Miller was there.  He was a large, round man, about forty revolutions old.

“Hello boys,” he bellowed as we walked in. 

“Hello sir!” we replied. 

“Ross, you need to work on your aim.  We’re gettin’ too close to the real deal and it’s one of the worst here!” 

“I’m sorry sir! I’ll work on it,” I told him.  If only we knew how skilled I would become. 

Within a few minutes the rest of the squad arrived in the briefing chambers. 

“All right! Attendance!” Colonel Miller boomed.  “Fergensen!”

“Here.” 

“Dunkelman.” 

“Here sir.” 

“Washington”

“Uh… here.” 

“Poffinbarger”

“Present sir” 

“Pippin”

“Right here”

“And Ross.” 

“Here sir!” I returned. 

I wondered why we had to do attendance with only six men, but I knew not to question my superior… especially over something so petty.

“All right then, we are all here! Let’s head out to the targets.”

It looked dark outside…  Perhaps it was another fierce Eupholan electric storm.  While Euphola wasn’t the origin of our people, it had quickly built up a reputation for military superiority during its early colonization.  It had been centuries since the first colony ship arrived, but Euphola now represented the pinnacle of Elonian colonization. Though with a threat of a fierce storm on the horizon, I had to prepare myself for anything.

“Ready boys!” Colonel Miller shouted. 

“Yes sir,” we responded, though even together we weren’t as loud as him. 

We prepared ourselves for the ‘Run, Shoot, and Take Cover’ drill that generally characterized our afternoons.

“Go!” Miller’s voice shot though the air.

Nevin and myself were the two fastest people in the squad.  We jetted ahead of the others by about five meters and gaining.  When Nevin reached the cover point, he leaped clear over it and somersaulted on the ground.  I climbed over the one-meter rock slowing me down.  By the time I was on the other side he was nearly five meters ahead, with Washington on the rock.

I knew I had to win.  I had to get better.  I was twenty meters away from where we take the shot.  Washington fell over after crossing the rock.  Max Pippin still had not reached the rock.  Miller was not happy with him. 

“PIPPIN! Too slow, get the lead out!” 

“You should try...”

“WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY!” Miller roared. 

“I’m sorry, sir” Pippin said. 

“Drop down and give me one hundred push-ups! NOW!  You have one minute!” Miller screamed.

By this time, Nevin, Washington, and I were all aiming at the target and it just started a heavy downpour.

Then three shots rang out.  Two of the once blowing balloons burst.  Only my round soared beyond the balloon without the satisfying pop.  In seconds, the other two were on their feet heading to the cover point.  I fired again.  This time I hit.  I was shocked, considering two shots was a new record for me.  This might be my chance.   I knew I was faster than Washington and with Nevin it’d be luck.

I was gaining on them both.  Then Washington saved the day.  In an unexpected move, he tackled Nevin and took both Nevin and himself to the ground.  I passed the two who were still getting back up.  I started to climb over the rock.  Pippin was just climbing over it for the first time.  I pulled myself over, filled with determination.  I had done it. This was my first win.  It was also my first placing higher than fifth.

“First to cover is James Ross!” Miller exclaimed.

Nevin repeated his leap again and landed in second. 

“Second to safety is Nevin Poffinbarger!” Miller announced. 

No sooner had he finished the sentence, Robert landed behind cover.

“Third place goes to Robert Washington!” he bellowed. 

Ryan Dunkelman and Phillip Fergensen took forth and fifth.  Max Pippin took last.  What a surprise. 

“Alright boys, good job all of you, except Pippin.  Everyone give me fifty, Pippin you do a hundred, understand?” he explained. 

”Understood,” we answered. 

We began our push-ups.  Pippin looked exhausted already.  I focused and performed my set as quick as I could.  I finally finished third.  I heard Pippin softly counting to himself “Fifty-four… fifty-five… fifty-six...” Miller thought he was taking too long.

“Pippin! Faster boy! For every thirty seconds you waste that’s thirty more.”

When Max finally finished, having been forced into a larger than average push-up count, Nevin opened up conversation with me.

“Good job James” Nevin said.  “That your first time winning?”

“What do you think?” I replied.

“Sorry,” he said back.

“With a record of five firsts in a row, you aren’t easy to beat,” I admit.

“Yeah, I know, but I’m surprised Ryan wasn’t closer to the top.  He has a longer win streak than me.  He may not be the fastest, but he sure knows what he’s doin’,” Nevin said.

“Attention!  It’s time for the next session!  Remember, we are making you soldiers!” Miller boomed.

I could tell Max wanted to go in, away from the rain.  He always avoided anything tough.  Fortunately, he kept his thoughts to himself, rather than telling Miller and getting yelled at again.

“Alright.  There are balloons set up way down range.  Your goal is to shoot all five in a row… with one shot.  There are twenty lines of balloons.  If you fail to shoot all five with one bullet, you must move on to the next line and try again.  You all have to share the twenty lines.  If you run out, and not all of you have completed the objective, all of you fail.  You must depend on each other.  Remember that!” Miller explained.  “You all understand?”

“Yes sir!”

“GO!” he yelled.

We all ran toward our shooting position.  It wasn’t far, and this time we were a team, rather than competitors.  We all fired.  Ryan hit all five.  Nevin hit four and had to move on to another row.  Another volley.  Nevin and Philip were done.  I had only hit a total of three balloons.  One the first shot, and two the second.  We shot again.  It was hard to nail the balloons with the strong winds.  Washington finished next.  I hit four, surprising myself.

“Gah…” I mumbled to myself as I moved to the next position.

Max fired and missed completely.  At least he could reuse the row.  In this challenge, it seemed that hitting zero was better than one through four.

I shot again. 
Pop
,
pop
,
pop
,
pop
,
pop
.  All five balloons burst as my bullet tore through them.

“Yes!” I cheered.

“Don’t get too excited, James,” Robert said.  “Max won’t make it.  We’ll lose anyway.”

At this point, there was only one row left.  He had to either miss completely, or hit all five.

“C’mon Max!  You can do it,” I yelled. 

He fired another total miss.

“Boo!” Washington jeered.

“Hey!” Miller called.  “Quiet!”

Pippin’s finger slowly pulled the trigger.  The bullet soared from the rifle into all five balloons.

“Ye-ah!” Max yelled.  “Woot! Ye-haw!” he continued.

“Great job, Max,” I told him. 

I may not have liked him, but he actually pulled through.  I had been worried my success would be wasted by his failure.

“All right boys, lap the complex eight times.  I’ll see you inside,” Miller said.

I looked up to see a flash of lightning.  The ground was mud and we were soaked.  We were all faster than Max, and lapped him several times.

When we finished we entered the building.  I was exhausted and cold.  Miller was hunched over on a bench watching a news alert.  His face showed grim surprise and disgust.