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Episode 1: Facing the Enemy
"Captain! They're closing in on our position," the radar tech exclaimed from his station, the fear growing in his eyes.
"Increase our speed," Abraham Avatar, captain of the Earth Defense Force flagship 227 ordered in a last-ditch effort to shake off the enemy fleet.
"We're straining the engine as it is, Captain," the familiar voice of his old friend and trusted engineer Patrick Orion announced from the engine room. "She's about to shake herself apart if we keep up this speed.
"Fleet status?" queried Avatar, his captain's hat sinking down to hide his eyes from view. His white hair and beard became more snowy with every capitulation to this alien force and every man he lost to them.
"We're going down fast, Sir," the radar tech replied again, "We've lost all but five ships and – no… four, and this flagship."
The captain stood quietly for half a second, then opened his mouth to speak.
"Incoming missile!" the radar tech exclaimed, "It's heading right for – "
He was cut off when the round slammed into the ship just below the bridge, exploding violently and sending the front viewport shattering into a million deadly pieces. The shrapnel cut through the thick ship air. Chunks of metal, glass, and thick plastic, like knives, sliced through the bridge.
Screams of pain and bellows of wrath echoed everywhere. Blood covered the floor and walls in places where men and women failed to get out of the way of some of the bigger pieces of debris. More than one curse flew at the despised invaders.
The lights on the bridge went out and the artificial gravity kicked off, sending every loose object in the room racing through the air towards the ragged hole in the front of the ship. The lifeless bodies of the dead were sucked towards the opening but didn't get the chance to escape. The safety locks sealed the gaping hole within seconds, stopping the outflow of air and debris.
Captain Avatar, knocked to his knees by the blast, struggled to his feet. He winced, a sudden pain searing into his right side. He looked down, and in the crimson emergency lights, he could see an ugly shard sticking out of his side.
He glanced around quickly, searching every face he could find for signs that they'd noticed his injury. Seeing that the crew was still recovering from their own falls or injuries and seemed none the wiser to his condition, he pulled his captain's coat around him and made sure it was buttoned closed, completely concealing his bloody wound.
"Everyone up!" he ordered, sadly noting that there were a few who would never stand again. "Status!"
The voices of his diminished crew, replied.
"Significant damage to decks one through seven, fires reported on deck four, power is running off of the emergency generator until the engine core can be repaired and restarted."
"How long?" Avatar questioned immediately.
The crewman who gave the report listened carefully to the head of the repair team, then replied, "Ten minutes, Captain."
"It's too long!" Avatar replied, "Do it in seven or we won't be seeing Earth again."
"Yes, Sir!" the crewman replied, relaying the message to the repair team.
"Captain!" another crewman exclaimed, "Message from the Yukikaze. They have what we came for. They've got the information on the enemy's base on Pluto!"
"What's the status of the fleet?" the captain asked again.
"We have –" the radar operator's face fell, "It's just us, Captain - us and Yukikaze… The rest are all... gone..."
"Let's get out of here. Helmsman," Avatar ordered, "Turn us around."
"Captain, the repair crew isn't finished yet."
Avatar took a deep, painful breath, biting back a wince, "We have to get out of here, no matter what," He said, the determination in his voice bolstering the flagging crew, "Go as quickly as we can on reserve power until the core is back on line."
"Yes, Sir," The helmsman replied, "But I don't think we'll get very far."
"That is not your call to make, Helmsman," Avatar chided.
"Yes… Sir," The helmsman hung his head, rebuked, "Turning the ship about now."
The flagship turned sluggishly and was instantly a target for a thick patch of enemy ships now swarming them like a shark on the trail of a wounded fish.
"They're surrounding us, Captain!" The radar operator announced, a shade of panic thick and heavy in his young voice," Enemy fire closing in!"
"Evasive maneuvers," Avatar ordered.
The helmsman responded as quickly as he could, avoiding some of the barrage, but catching several hits squarely in the already scarred hull.
The ship rocked violently. Avatar reached out and clutched the nearest console so hard that his hand felt like it would never be able to unmold itself from the metal. But better that than hitting the floor again and jarring his already burning side. Sado Sane at Central Hospital – another old friend of his – would see to it when they made it back to Earth – or rather, if they made it back.
"Another round like that, Captain and we'd just as well kiss the universe good-bye," the voice of Patrick Orion sounded over the ship's comm.
"We didn't come here to die," Avatar thought, gritting his teeth, "What's the status on the core?"
"Two minutes, Captain," the repair team leader replied.
"I told you seven minutes, crewman. It's been six. You have sixty seconds. Make it count!" the Captain countered.
"Yes, Sir," came the reply.
"We won't make it like this," the Captain thought, desperately searching for something, some way to get the rest of his men out of this death-trap and back home to their Earth, scarred though she was by Gamilon's poison. "Lord, bring us back home. These men are in my charge. I have already failed so many of them. Please, help me to keep my promise to the rest of them..."
"Sir, enemy ships are charging weapons," one of the crew announced.
"No…" Avatar closed his eyes, not ready to accept the deaths of his men.
"Captain!" the radar man exclaimed.
Avatar's eyes shot open.
"Captain it's the Yukikaze! She's moving to intercept the enemy ships – no, she's luring them away, distracting them! Captain, the enemy ships are all following Yukikaze!"
"Get Captain Wildstar on the comm line!" Avatar ordered. "Now!"
"Yes, Sir!"
An instant later the voice of young Captain Alex Wildstar echoed through the flagship bridge. If the ship's power were restored, light brown hair and fierce brown eyes would have stared determinedly into the faces of every one of Captain Avatar's living bridge crew. Instead, Alex's stalwart voice rang through the ship.
"Go! We'll draw their fire while you get out of here," the young captain said.
"Wildstar, no!" Avatar's first reaction was to protest. What Alex was proposing meant certain death for him and the sixteen other men on Yukikaze.
"We've all decided, Captain. We're doing this for our home, for those we've spent our lives protecting – our spouses, children, parents, friends. They're all our responsibility."
That instant, the flagship's main power flickered back on.
"We're sending you the information we retrieved. It should be there right now. Take it home, Captain. Take it home and come back to Pluto. Kick these parasites out of our solar system," in the seconds of dead air that followed, Avatar could hear Wildstar taking a deep breath, then the young captain said, "I'll see you later."
"Wildstar! Wildstar!" Avatar tried to bring the other captain back up on the comm, but failed, "On screen!" he finally ordered, and watched with the sick feeling of horror and sadness as Yukikaze sailed off, the enemy ships pursuing her at top speed.
The flagship bridge was deathly silent, heavy emotions settling on them all. A sense of deep loss sank through Avatar's heart as he watched Yukikaze disappear into a bright ball of light and he fought back the wave of grief that came over him.
"All ahead full," Avatar ordered, his voice gravelly and tight, "We're going home."
None of the crew questioned him, but as they limped out of the battle zone, the silence was deafening.
Once they were out of Pluto-space, the radar tech spoke up. "Captain…" he said hesitantly.
"Yes..., crewman," Avatar replied, "You have something constructive to say?"
"Yes, Captain," he bit his lip and sucked in a sharp breath through his nose, "During the… battle… there a ship briefly appeared on our radar."
"And the significance of it?" Avatar urged.
"Sir, it wasn't ours. And it wasn't Gamilon."
At this, the bridge went silent again, but this time, instead of grief, Avatar could feel the haunted stares of the crew.
"It – it could have been a ghost image," the helmsman stuttered.
"That was no ghost," the radar operator replied. "It was a ship. And it was headed straight for Mars' orbit."
"Notify the EDF," Avatar ordered, "and send them any telemetry data we have on this mystery ship."
"Yes, Sir," the communications officer immediately sent everything he could find back home to Earth.
"Lord, give me strength to walk the road You've laid out for me," the Captain prayed as he left the bridge, heading for his quarters, and the promise of rest they held. He had to summon one of the few ship medics they were able to bring with them. Either that or bleed out slowly before they even reached Neptune's orbit. "Help me…" he began, but couldn't finish his feeble prayer as the reality of his loss settled on his heavy heart.
"Adam… why did you have to be assigned to Yukikaze…?" With that the captain stepped through the door to his cabin and sat slowly on the small bed, weeping for his lost son.
"Whoa!" Cadet Derek Wildstar, one of two new graduates of the Space Academy back on Earth was nearly knocked off his feet when the ground rumbled beneath him. "What was that? A train wreck next door?"
"It probably has something to do with whatever just crash landed a few miles from here," Mark Venture, the other lucky Cadet assigned to the observation post replied blandly, rolling his eyes at Wildstar's characteristically exaggerated expressions. "We just received a message from EDF headquarters saying the returning Pluto fleet saw something headed our way."
"Gamilon?" Wildstar asked, a look of ferocity suddenly lighting up his eyes.
"No…" Venture replied, a little annoyed with Derek's constant thirst for conflict. "What little data they were able to get didn't match anything we know about Gamilon."
"Could be some new ship," Derek countered.
"I highly doubt that," Venture replied, "The basic ship construction isn't anything like any of the Gamilon ships we've ever encountered."
"Oh, and I suppose you're an expert on these things," Wildstar replied, skeptically.
"No, I just pay attention when we get those reports every week from HQ."
"Oh… Those…" Derek avoided Mark's gaze, feeling the slightest bit sheepish for about two seconds. "So, let's go check it out."
"Check what out?"
"The wreck," Derek replied, instantly snatching his helmet from its hook. The bright red headgear was hard to miss in the dingy gray building. "We can't just sit here when there's something like that out there waiting for us."
Venture sighed heavily, "Alright," he relented, "but I want to go on record as being against this. We should wait until the Pluto fleet gets here."
"And does what? Fly by it in orbit and scan it with their sensors? Come on, Venture. It's just not the same as getting a close look. Plus, they'll be itching to get home. They aren't going to want to hang around here for half an hour to look at some ship that couldn't even manage settle into proper orbit."
"Alright, alright. Let's just go, get back and be done with it," Venture surrendered, grabbing his own bright red flight helmet.
The two young men made sure their suits were sealed and air leak-free.
Within ten minutes they were ready to go.
The flight to the crash site took less than three minutes.
"There," Venture pointed out the scout ship window, "It looks like an escape pod."
"The ship looks to be a good distance that way," Wildstar pointed west, "They had to have ejected right before or right after they entered the atmosphere.
"Either way, that pod hit hard. It looks like – Wildstar, there's a body down there!"
Derek's eyes widened as he saw what Mark was talking about. There, lying in the red sands of Mars, lay the still form of a woman.
"We've got to get down there. She might still be alive," Derek took the ship down as quickly as he dared, glancing at the woman very few seconds.
The two leapt out of the craft almost as soon as her runners touched the ground.
They sprinted through the thick sand, their legs going much slower than they liked due to the terrain, but finally they reached the woman's side.
Derek reached down and propped the woman's body up, checking for some indication of a pulse, or any other sign of life. The vitals monitor in his suit returned negative.
Derek shook his head sadly, "She's dead…" he studied her more closely and after a very long look he added, "She's beautiful…"
The woman's long, blonde hair flowed down onto the sand so elegantly that Derek hated to disturb it. Her long, violet dress hid all of her body, except her delicate hands and face. Her skin was a pale color, somewhere close to Venture's skin-tone.
"Who is she…?" Derek asked, more to himself than to Venture.
"Don't know…" Mark replied anyway, "There aren't any indications of where she came from. Where's do you think her home is?"
"How should I know? Why was she out as far as Pluto-space anyway? She looks like she could be from Earth."
"Not in that ship," Mark replied, indicating the sleek, golden vessel they could see jutting out of the sand just on the far horizon. "So it's not just us and Gamilon anymore. There's someone else out there."
"What's this?" Derek suddenly exclaimed. He reached out and touched the woman's left hand, curled tightly around something. "Whatever it is, it must have been very important to her." He managed to pry open her fingers enough to remove the object and held it up for Mark to see. "What do you think it is?"
"I have no idea," Venture replied, "But we have to take back everything we can. What we don't get, one of the Pluto ships will have to pick up. This is too important of a find to leave any of it here."
"Agreed," Derek replied, "But let's get her," he looked down at the dead woman again, "and this… thing," he studied the strange crimson tube, its core of blue light pulsing as he held it, "back to the outpost." He scooped up the stranger and carefully transported her spent body back to the ship.
Episode 2: Defeat: The Pluto Fleet Returns
Captain Abraham Avatar stared out into the expanse of space from his cramped quarters onboard flagship 227 – the last of the EDF's flagships; the rest met their end at the hands of Gamilon's warships.
Here, so far from the conflict at Pluto, it was quiet; but the silence was not one filled with peace, but rather, with anxiety and sadness. Nearly everyone on the ship lost someone they knew in the conflict, not just in this one battle, but during the entire ordeal.
One day, without notice, the world irrevocably changed. Avatar remembered that day much too well; it was the day he lost his wife and daughter; it was also the day he marched into Charles Thaddeus Singleton's office and in anger and grief declared that the American military was obligated to respond to this threat.
Singleton – then head of the United States' armed forces – responded in his usual level-headed way and assured "Abraham," as he was known then, that measures would be taken.
A mere two weeks later, the Earth Defense Force was born and its headquarters established in an office complex in Tokyo, Japan. Thaddeus was called on to head up the organization and he readily accepted the appointment.
But Avatar's old friend didn't leave him to grieve alone. Thaddeus lost his own family in the same assault Abraham had, though Singleton didn't discover his own loss until several days after the attack. The new Commander-to-be went in to identify the bodies of his son and daughter-in-law.
Their deaths left Thaddeus to look after his only grand-daughter, ten year old Wendy, a shy red-headed girl with a sharp intellect.
"Nine years…" Avatar thought, "Has it really been so long since it all began...?"
The ship's recycled air was cold, infused with the chill of space. It made him want to retreat to a warm corner and stay there for the remainder of his time in space.
Travel off-world was becoming more and more cumbersome with every passing year. His health wasn't as good as it could be. Genetics and old age were setting in and beginning to overtake him. But in all of this, Abraham still held to the Lord who brought him through it all. In good times, or in bad, the old captain always had one Friend Who never left him. When his family was killed, the only stay he was left with was God himself, and Abraham and He had many a long conversation since the passing of his family.
The Captain stared at his reflection in the viewport, "Man was not created to live like this… in fear… hiding underground from the death that rains down on us now. Surely the Earth was meant for better than this, Lord."
"Captain?"
A knock sounded at the door.
"Yes," Avatar answered.
The XO stepped into the room, the door sliding closed behind him.
"Sir, I know we suffered… tremendous losses… but… there is something that must be brought to your attention."
Captain Avatar, suddenly very aware of his new wound, made sure his coat concealed the temporary dressing the ship's medic applied for him.
"What is it?" Avatar asked, his eyes never leaving the starry expanse.
"EDF headquarters received information about a crashed ship on Mars. It went down sometime during our… encounter. They've requested that we go to Mars and retrieve the wreckage along with the two cadets stationed at the observation post there; cadets Venture and Wildstar."
At the last name Avatar's eyes widened for the briefest second, "'Wildstar,' you say?"
"Yes, Sir. I believe he is… Captain Wildstar's younger brother," the XO replied cautiously.
Avatar nodded, finally turning his head to look at the other man, but carefully keeping his wounded side hidden from the officer. "I see," the captain paused, a hundred thoughts crowding into his mind all at once, "The ship – it's one of ours?"
The XO hesitated, "No – no, Sir, not ours," another pause punctuated his words, "And not theirs either."
Avatar's face turned from sad to grim, "Survivors?"
The officer took a breath and waited just a moment too long to reply.
"They're dead then," Avatar interjected soberly.
"Yes…" the officer replied. "There was one crewman, apparently female. The report from the Mars station says it looks like she was thrown from her escape pod when it hit dirt. The pod seems to have malfunctioned; its propulsion system was offline and when it crashed, it opened and threw the woman clear. She died on impact."
The Captain nodded, "Make the arrangements for the retrieval."
"Yes, Sir," the officer saluted, his right fist resting over his heart in the standard EDF gesture. He turned and left, sending the captain's quarters once again into tense silence, but this time it was tinged with dread.
"Venture, the ship's finally here to make the pickup. You ready?" Wildstar called back to Mark who was slowly closing his luggage bag back in the cramped eight by eight room that he and Derek shared during their stint on Mars – time that just screeched to an abrupt halt because of this mysterious incident.
Mark and Derek knew each other from the Earth Defense Academy, but they weren't good friends until their last year. Mark took a lot of time on weekends and holidays to spend with his family while Derek always moped around campus during the breaks.
The two were very different, but those differences seemed to balance each other out well and the two survived their time on Mars without too many disagreements getting out of hand.
"Coming!" Mark belted back. He secured his helmet, shouldered his bag, and stepped out of the tiny living space. On his way out he noticed the char mark on the wall and nearly burst out laughing at the sight of it. Some of Wildstar's stunts during their isolation here didn't end so well, but some of them were at least entertaining.
"If you don't hurry up the ship will have picked up the wreck and left by the time we get there!" Wildstar's voice crackled through Mark's helmet-mic.
"I know, I know. I'll be there in thirty seconds," Venture shook his head and muttered to himself, "So impatient."
"Hey, I heard that," came the response.
"Just hold it a second," Mark replied. "We've been sitting on this rock for three weeks waiting for them to get here. They can give us a little time to load up."
Venture arrived before his estimated thirty seconds expired and boarded the small plane they were using to rendezvous with the flagship.
As he stepped on board Mark noticed an antiseptic odor. "What's with the doctor's office smell?" he asked into his mic.
"EDF wanted everything hosed down after we put the 'alien' and 'alien artifacts' on board," Derek replied, annoyed, "General Stone and his usual paranoia about 'icky germs infecting the rest of the sorry population of Earth before we all die.'"
Venture fought to keep from laughing at the other cadet's impersonation of Commander Singleton's second in command.
"Well, at least we don't have to spend the entire trip home in here," Venture replied.
He received a hearty laugh in response.
Mark shook his head and quickly made his way up to the cockpit so they could leave.
Fifteen minutes later they saw flagship 227 waiting above the crash site.
"Permission to dock," Wildstar hailed the other ship.
"Permission granted," came the reply.
Wildstar piloted the ship into the hangar and docked in one of the empty bays. As soon as the ship was securely in its place, Wildstar and Venture disembarked.
"The pilot's body and her escape pod are on board," Wildstar informed the ship's XO via radio.
"Thank you, Cadet Wildstar," the officer replied. "You and Cadet Venture meet me outside the hanger. I will show you to your quarters."
"Yes, Sir," Derek replied then said to Mark, "Come on, maybe we'll see my brother's ship on the way out. This hangar should be nearly full."
Mark hurriedly followed Derek through the gigantic hangar.
Wildstar ran to the first bay and eagerly peaked in. Seeing nothing, he ran to the next one, and then the next. With every empty bay, Wildstar's heart began to sink.
Derek returned to Venture – who was only half way down the hangar – with his head hung low, face dark. "They're… they're all empty," he said, "Every… single… one… Alex's ship has to be here somewhere."
Venture's heart plummeted into his stomach, "Maybe his ship returned to Earth on another flagship."
Derek nodded ever so slowly, "Yeah… Yeah, that's gotta be it."
The two walked the rest of the way to the exit in silence.
Just before they reached the door, someone walked in – two someones in fact.
"Captain! Captain, we don't know what the pilot might be carrying; we can't just –" the man dressed like a medic protested to an older man wearing a captain's coat and hat. His white hair and beard stood out in stark contrast to the black of his coat.
"I know the risks; but if I expect my science team to look through an alien craft, the least I can do is make sure it's safe for them to do so."
"But Captain, your –"
"I'm fine, doctor. Please," the older man looked up to see Mark and Derek standing there staring at them. "Let Hamilton know his two cadets are here to meet him."
"Yes… Captain," the medical officer nodded and disappeared back out the hangar door.
"Captain?" Wildstar approached the older man boldly, "Captain… Avatar?"
"Yes?" the veteran addressed the young man, eyebrow raised.
"I'm Derek Wildstar. I'm –"
"Alex Wildstar's brother," the Captain finished. "Yes... I know. You look just like him."
"Where is he? Didn't his ship go back with the rest of the fleet?" Derek asked.
Captain Avatar didn't respond right away. Instead he stood silently for a very long moment.
"Captain?" Derek pleaded with the man to answer him.
"We are the Pluto fleet, Wildstar," Captain Avatar replied. "Your brother made a great sacrifice so we could return with vital information."
Derek stared open-mouthed at the captain, a look of grief-stricken horror settling over his face. Suddenly, Wildstar exploded, "You left him behind!"
"No, Wildstar. He did it of his own accord. I tried to convince him to come with us, but he wouldn't do it. He fought a delaying action so this ship, heavily damaged as she was, could make it out of Pluto-space."
Wildstar was about to reply when suddenly the XO stepped in.
"Cadets, please come with me," Hamilton said and motioned for the young men to follow him out of the hangar.
Mark clapped Derek on the shoulder, "Come on, Wildstar." Derek didn't follow. "Come on," Mark repeated.
This time, Derek, in shock, followed silently.
"Lord… show me what to do…" Avatar surveyed the wreckage that Wildstar and Venture hauled aboard. "I don't know how to help him, but I do know the pain he suffers…" immediately, thoughts of his son Adam, Alex's navigator, flooded into his mind, "Perhaps once we return to Earth… Maybe then he will understand why we couldn't go back."
The Captain winced as a twinge of pain chided him for moving too quickly around the ship's cargo hold.
Avatar ran his gloved hand over the escape pod's smooth outer shell, admiring its fine craftsmanship. "Like nothing we could have made," he thought. Then he stepped over to the preservation capsule the pilot's body was transported in.
The lid was slightly frosted over and Avatar had to clear the condensation off the glass cover in order to get a glimpse of the pilot.
When he saw her face, he stopped and stared. Even in death she was the very image of beauty. The cadets' report hadn't been an exaggeration after all. She looked like she could be the queen of some distant land from a storybook world.
"If only she were still alive…" the Captain sighed heavily, "If only…"
Out of the corner of his eye, Avatar thought he saw something glowing. He looked to see the source of the strange light and was surprised to discover the mystery object of which the cadets had spoken in their report.
"Odd," the Captain muttered to himself, then thought, "Perhaps a power source of some kind?"
He took one cautious step at a time, inching his way towards the object. "The pilot had it with her; perhaps it was meant to generate some sort of shield to break her fall."
He came to within a few feet of the object and stopped, a strange sensation rolling over him. Anxiety? Fear? He was too old to be anxious and too tired to be afraid.
According to the report, at least one of the cadets touched the object and suffered no ill effects.
He took a few more steps towards the alien artifact and ever so slowly reached out towards it.
His hand descended towards the object but stopped just before his fingers brushed its surface. He expected to feel some sort of warmth emanating from it. Perhaps his gloves were too thick.
He withdrew his hand and took off his white captain's glove, then reached out again towards the glowing thing.
Nothing happened. Until he touched the object.
The image of a woman flickered to life before his eyes, a woman who looked much like the pilot resting in the capsule several feet away. Then, she began to speak.
"I am Starsha of planet Iscandar."
"A message you say?" Commander Singleton asked, eyebrows raised in curiosity, "What was it?"
"An offer of help," Avatar replied. The light from his small communication screen casting stark shadows through his dark quarters.
"Help? From who?"
"Iscandar," said the Captain.
"Iscandar? What is it? A town; a country; an organization –"
"Another planet, Commander."
There was a long pause and Avatar thought the Commander might not reply, but just when the Captain was about to continue speaking the other man finally opened his mouth again.
"So it's not just us and Gamilon anymore..."
"No, Thaddeus. It's not."
"It was hard enough when we discovered we weren't alone in the universe. One alien culture was enough, but now a second one..." the Commander's face fell. "FOr a decade, the people of Earth have had enough to think about. Adding this on now..."
"I know, Commander." the Captain replied, "But this time they offer us hope, not death."
"Yes... this is true..." Singleton replied, then a thought occurred to him, "As long as this isn't a trap."
Avatar's eyes dropped to the floor, "It would have to be quite a plot, Commander... The pilot who delivered the message – the pilot whose body we now carry with us – was the sister of the woman who sent us this. She died to deliver this hope to us."
Commander Singleton stood dumbfounded. "Her sister...? Who is this woman who sent us this message?"
"Her name is 'Starsha,' 'Queen Starsha of Iscandar.'"
"That would make this sister a princess. Why send a princess to do what anyone could have? Something doesn't seem right."
"Perhaps," the Captain replied, "But would it not be better to trust in a slim hope than to give up and sentence the world to death and ruin? Would it not be better to trust in the promise of God Himself, the promise that –"
"I don't need to hear about your religion, Abraham," Singleton interrupted, "But I do agree that it would be better to bet on something than nothing. As soon as you get here, bring that message to us at EDF headquarters. We'll have our science team analyze it for any further clues as to what's going on here."
"In the mean time, I think it would be wise to step up the pace on the... Yamato Plan," Avatar replied slowly.
"But if we pursue this... 'promise' from who knows where, we won't need it."
"Not for its original purpose, no," the Captain admitted, "But there is something else in this message that will change our perspective of space travel completely."
"Very well. My people will look into it," Singleton nodded, "But until then, do not reveal the contents of that message to anyone else."
"Understood, Commander."
With that, the transmission ended.
Venture and Wildstar lay in their respective bunks, their quarters dark. It was night-time in the ship's day-cycle, so they were trying to get some sleep before arriving back Earth-side.
"What a day, huh?" Mark tried to coax an answer – or words of any kind out of Derek. He waited for the response from the bunk above him. Derek didn't say anything, so Mark tried again, "I wonder what that thing was that the pilot was holding on to."
Again there was no response.
"Glad to be off Mars though. That had to be the most boring assignment I've ever been given." Mark stared up at the bare underside of his friend's bunk.
Only silence graced his ears.
"Well, I'm going to sleep now," Mark announced into the silence. "Wake me up when we get there."
Finally a low grunt trickled down from the top bunk.
"Well... at least he's still alive up there," Mark thought, "Maybe some time to think will do him a little bit of good." With a sigh, he rolled over and went to sleep.