Planetcracker (a short story)

Written as an entry in the NeoGAF Creative Writing Challenge, #109.

If you asked me why I first signed up for the marines – just completely dropped everything in my life – I would have told you because of a sense of adventure. Sure, I was a student, just your slightly-above average twenty something on Earth who didn’t have much else to do with traveling the stars except the occasional vacation out of the Solar System or to run errands on the Moon. I had read about all those in books as a child, how we tamed the planets outside of the Solar System. I wanted to go out there and explore it one day. But going to the Moon is like a bus ride for someone from Earth.

It wasn’t even all the grim business on Pergamum IV that did it, though looking back, maybe it was. There were times in our history where something that felt insignificant would spark something so big. Insignificant to us, I suppose, so far away on what we all called a backwater planet. Those executions seemed like something disconnected from my life entirely. Someone from Earth knew someone from there, of course; everyone knows someone else that high up in the government. Someone very high up, in fact, enough that they convinced us it was worth getting in a fight over.

Maybe my sense of adventure got to me enough that I found myself in over my head. I was still buried in my books until one day I saw them putting up recruitment posters up all over campus.

 

Sign up for the Earth Expeditionary Forces – see the galaxy, make the rebels pay!

 

“Make the rebels pay?” I asked the guy putting the posters up.

“Yeah, you remember Pergamum IV on the news a few months ago?”

“What about it?”

“We’re gonna go give them what for, you know?”

I gleaned the location of the nearby recruitment centre from the poster, “so, you joining up or …?

“Oh, already have. Just taking my time to get spread the word, you know.”

I was a little averse about war, seeing as the closest thing I came to that was getting into a fight with the school bully, Frankie Vancelli, in grade six.

“I hear it’s going to be over real quick anyway. We got all the big guns, they got maybe two or three small ones. One of the ministers was cousins with one of the Featherleas - big shot governors … well not anymore, thanks to the rebels.”

I had remembered that on the news, but some of the details were lost to me. Everyone else I talked to was convinced it was going to be a quick war, three, four months at best. Maybe just flash, no real fighting. Show up, kick some ass, and then we all celebrate. They said the same thing when World War I rolled around, a war way back over two centuries ago. Back then, everyone had hoped that their shiny and big guns would bring a swift conclusion to a war everyone was looking forward to.

“Jack, it’s not like it’s going to be dangerous at all,” my dad explained to me, “I hear all the kids are signing up for the hell of it. I wish I could’ve been part of something like that when I was your age. Besides, we already have many more ready and capable trained fighters than the rebels do. You’ll probably be doing something like tagging along in the rear, just watching the fighting from a nice vidscreen.”

And soon after I found myself in line, ready to sign up for a trip to the stars, paid for by the government. I went back to the recruitment centre by the campus again, and there was that guy who was putting posters up all around. It was only a week since I last saw him, but he was busy, almost every free space in campus covered in recruitment posters. After going through all the physicals, he waited for me.

“Hey again, guess you finally decided to sign up, eh? Name’s Seamus.”

“Jack, nice too meet you,” I shook his hand.

“So the docs clear you?”

“Yeah, they did. Guess I’ll be seeing more of you, won’t I?”

“Training, VR simulations, you know. Boot camp doesn’t sound exciting but you know; we all gotta do it,” he checked the number on my forms, “yeah, you and I will be heading off to the same place – Fort Chapman.”

The drill sergeant was a real asshole, but I could count how many times his training saved my life on both hands. The real surprise from training camp though, was bumping into old Frankie Vancelli, though now he liked to be called Frank, or Sergeant. He was just as surprised to see me again, as we were almost like arch-nemeses from grade school through to high school. We eventually put it all aside, seeing as we’d be stuck to one another for as long as this would take.

“Frank … umm, Sarge, do you even remember why we hated each other’s guts so much?” It had been years since we’d seen each other.

“You know Jack, I don’t even know why. Probably just because you were a bit of a nerd, I took it upon myself to torture you. But since you’re here, I guess that makes us almost equals – you know, apart from the rank – but I’m still … still surprised to see you here. I’m responsible for a bookworm!”

“And how did you …?”

“Oh, not many options for your typical schoolyard bully, so this is where I find myself. But you know I happen to be really good at it, being in charge of people.”

I didn’t have much to say to Frank.

“Hey, listen, sorry about all the shit I gave you back when we were kids. You know, I was stupid and all. Besides, like I said before, we’re kinda stuck together on this adventure of ours so—”

“It’s okay, Frank.” I figured this was going to be a new chapter in my life. The best I could do was make peace with Frank. Not that I was expecting anything to happen to any of us.

When all was said and done and we were out of Fort Chapman, we received our orders. I would be tied to the hip with Frankie Vancelli as my sergeant and Seamus at my back. Epsilon Company – that was us – was going to join the rest of Pulsar Regiment on the ESS Strontium. Like the rest the first volunteers to depart for the front lines, we were all given a hero’s farewell. We all stood in formation at the launch pad, ready to take a shuttle up to our ship. Much to my surprise, I found out I was going to be on the same ship as Abby. Maybe it was fate, or I told her where I was going when I signed up and she somehow got us assigned to her ship.

“Whoa, that’s Abby? Like, your old girlfriend, Abby?” Frank seemed shocked.

“Yeah.”

“Well, the uniform … doesn’t do her justice, you know.”

“Last time I checked, she still hates you for all the grief you gave me way back when.”

“Well, water under the bridge, right? Be sure to tell her that.”

Abby came to greet us after the ceremonies finished. Like Frank, she had enlisted much earlier, except she originally wanted to be an engineer. But somehow her talents in military intelligence had gotten her into part of the command staff of a Bonaparte-class battleship.

“Yeah, I didn’t want the family to know … they’d make a big deal out of it.”

“So, you did get me transferred to the Strontium, didn’t you?” I was hoping she’d confirm my theory, but she was coy with her answer.

If you told me the war was going to last more than sixteen months, maybe I would have never even considered enlisting. I remember last campaign – Atraxes – just three months ago, we thought we had it in the bag. At least until the “great” Admiral Strumbrad and his band of rebels – or the Independence as they liked to be called – appeared out of nowhere to reinforce the rebels. We figured that even if they had the greatest military mind of our generation, they couldn’t outgun us.

“Hey, Frank, wireless says Strumbrad is in orbit, or least in the system. Why are we still planetside? How did he make it through the blockade anyway?”

“Jack, I haven’t heard anything like that,” I knew he was lying, “besides, all the rebels have is him and some second-rate admirals. Sure, they got some angry guys with guns, but that’s nothing against the disciplined force of Earth’s Expeditionary Force. Or, hell, just Epsilon Company. We should just charter a ship to Pergamum IV; I want to punch that Maxwell kid in the face. Then give that self-appointed rebel leader Metcalfe what for.”

“So we’re still supposed to assault the rebel base right? The offensive’s still on?”

“Yeah, those sons-of-bitches refuse to surrender, just like every damn planet we’ve been on. They’re tough, I’ll give ‘em that.”

“I just want to be off this planet. I hate the jungle climate,” Seamus whined.

“You and me both,” Frank replied before leaving us at our post.

We figured wrong. Forty percent of Pulsar Regiment was wiped out when the rebels made it into orbit somehow at the eleventh hour. It was a massacre, but luckily Seamus and Frank made it out okay. It was all hazy shortly after I was hit during the retreat. I didn’t think I was going to make it. All I remember is Seamus dragging me back to the dropship. I woke up on a hospital bed with Abby holding my hand, Frank and Seamus just staring out the window. The infirmary looked a little worse for wear.

“For a while, we didn’t think you were going to make it,” Abby was the first one to speak up.

“Yeah, that sneaky bastard Strumbrad and his forces got through somehow. We’re still not sure how he got past the blockade,” Frank spoke up, “got any theories the higher ups know about that us ground pounders don’t, Officer Preston? Or did someone just fall asleep at the radar?”

“Nothing more than you already know, Frank,” Abby replied, still staring at me.

“Well, it’s not like it did them any good,” Seamus replied, “they beat a hasty retreat, and it only delayed us by two weeks. We got Atraxes, but the cost was higher than we were all expecting.”

Nothing important happened sitting in a hospital bed with Abby, Frank and Seamus visiting occasionally. Well, except Abby saying we should get together after the war ended. I told my parents about my injury, and apologized to them for the lapse in communication. Between the four of us, I just wanted it to be over and be home as soon as possible. Fast-forward to now, I hear that Apostle’s Grasp flipped sides. The Independence took it over – apparently without incident – but the loyalists laid in wait to take the planet back. There was no love lost for the rebels from any of the populace on Apostle’s Grasp. The Strontium, and a few other ships were sent to oversee the surrender of the rebel leaders in that system. In a long time we felt like the tide of the war was completely turning against the rebels.

We sat watching in the galley on deck 7 as the commander of the ESS Ozymandias was accepting the surrender of the Independence forces in the system, a man by the name of Thomas Muldane. We all cheered for a moment, but all of a sudden the news feed was interrupted. It was the self-appointed Supreme Commander of the Independence, David Metcalfe, speaking on the vidscreen.

“Hello, Earthlings. Right now, I would like to address the surrender of The Independence on Apostle’s Grasp. I had more hope that the people of Apostle’s Grasp would be more welcoming to the Independence, but it seems they have thrown their lot in with you Earthlings. To me, that paints them as traitors to the Independence, even after all we have done for them to free them from the yoke of Earth’s oppression. I guess some dogs are simply too loyal and have to be put down. This is one victory that Earth will not have.”

The live feed cut out as there was some confusion amongst the news staff, trying to retain their composure. All of a sudden, alarms went off on the ship.

“This is the commander. The Strontium is now in Condition Red. All hands on deck. We have incoming contacts, all Independence.”

The mission was to repel any invaders, help however we could in the case of hull breaches, fire damage. I urged Frank to have us near the CIC, so I could keep an eye on Abby. When we got there, there was an ordered chaos as the Strontium moved into attack positions. From what I could glean from the chatter, the commander of the Ozymandias just got back on board, and we were going to intercept the Independence ships while the smaller Hannibal-class battleships stayed behind.

Somehow, an Independence ship slipped past – we don’t know how, but it did. It slipped past and fired a warhead at Apostle’s Grasp. At first we thought it was a fanatic rebel commander breaking rank, but then we saw it for what it really was. It wasn’t headed anywhere important, so there was no need to intercept it. The planet exploded shortly after the missile made contact with the planet, and all we could do was keep formation, do our jobs. One of the ships at our rear – the Tigris – was caught in the planetary debris but the other two made it out. They called it the Planetcracker warhead, something the defecting admirals must have gotten ahold of. All I know is that an entire planet was no longer where it should be, along with billions of people. I threw up when I watched the video again.

If you asked me today why I was fighting this war, part of me just wants it to be over, but the other half will tell you it wants to make those bastards pay for what they did that day.