Countdown

A continuous breeze swept across the tall grass causing waves of sunlight to be reflected off the browned surfaces of the dying field. It was as if with each wave that swept across, the life was being drained slowly away from the beating heart of the once vibrant ecosystem.

“Still, even though the memories of the past create such a stark contrast with how things are now, standing here is peaceful. In these times, it is easy to get lost in hope and nostalgia and forget that there is beauty in the end of things.”

“You say that as if there is no hope.”

“Hope? Finding a needle in a haystack is hope, finding a needle in the void of space? That’s just blind faith.”

“So, we need a miracle?”

“Yeah, a miracle, divine intervention or whatever you want to call it, we need that. The problem is that I feel like we don’t deserve it.”

“So, we push forward and find a way to deserve it! Then maybe on the way we will find them.”

The two friends walked away from their vantage point having surveyed their path to the launch pad. It was strange how even though they had been effectively fired by Air Command for being too audacious during missions, it now fell on them to complete the mission required to save humanity. As the pair trudged through the field, loud cracking noises could be heard in the sky above. Every day, more and more orbital debris would come careening down to earth. With the last vestiges of humanity concerned with getting off the planet, nobody cared about conservation at this point. The thought of Aircom spending resources on cleanup was laughable now compared to two years ago when WNN had 24-hour coverage on a debate about funding a conservation project for the 250-year-old International Space Station Museum.

“Do you think anyone will even be there to help us get off the ground? It has been a few days since coms went down.”

“Honestly? I’d be surprised. Most people were clamoring to get on Titans. I would imagine most of the brass has already headed out. All I know is if we do not find that second half, they will have escaped for nothing. Eventually, they will run out of resources and die of starvation or chaos.”

The pair continued to dredge along as the tall grass gave way to swampy terrain. They were less than a mile away from their destination when the sounds of snapping twigs and rustling grass gave way to the low-pitched grumble of an incoming MRAP. The familiar sound would normally be welcoming but both knew they had to be careful. They ducked in between some nearby reeds for cover. As the large military truck drove past, they breathed a sigh of relief. It was just as they had feared… Bandits. Better yet, they had not been seen. The world was a different place now. Resources have been thin over the past few decades. The hardiest of crops have been having a hard time growing, and most wildlife is gone. Even humans are now on the menu.

Night was falling soon, and it appeared that the Bandits would not be doubling back anytime soon. The pair decided to continue towards their destination. After a few hundred more yards of thick brush, a small berm appeared into view. A quick climb and they found themselves on asphalt. The dilapidated parking lot could not have been a more welcoming sight. Thousands of abandoned vehicles provided great cover for them as they made their way to the still standing Aircom building. A Category 6 hurricane had recently come and destroyed most of the tall buildings in the area, but this Aircom building was built to withstand about anything besides a nuclear blast. With any hope, operations would still be up and running once they got in.

As they approached the front entrance of the Aircom building, a familiar hissing noise came through their Commlink device.

“Valkyrie Squad head over to the prep bay, radio silence order has been lifted we are clearing house, new sitrep came in over Comsat. Things are critical. Offset in one hour… over and out.”

A horrified look washed over both of their faces. Valkyrie Squad must have been a codename for the team that was left behind to watch over the base, and a radio silence order must have been why they had been unable to communicate with Aircom and tell them about the transport mishap that had happened a few days back. The pair had traveled over 100 miles on foot to get to this rendezvous point and if they had heard right, “offset” was Aircom code for self-destruction of a military asset. Did they plan on destroying the entire facility? There was no time to attempt negotiations. They had to get to the prep bays on the other side of the Aircom Campus and fast. After realizing that the entrance was locked, the pair took off running as fast as they could around the building. Any thought of short cutting through the building was now off the table and they knew that it was a least three miles to get to the prep bays. Most Aircom buildings had FasCart transport systems to facilitate quick personnel movement. If they could get to the back of the building, they might be able to intercept Valkyrie Squad and hitch a ride to the prep bays. If they couldn't make it, at the very least, they could get a head start on the three mile run.

“Do you think we will make it in time? I mean, sure. What’s three miles compared to one hundred? But I've got to say... I’m tired.”

“Just try to keep up. At this point, being tired or being dead, which do you prefer? Let's just hope they haven’t left yet.”

As they turned around the final corner, they saw a tall man putting on a flight jacket and ordering some other men as they loaded supplies onto a FasCart. On the back of the jacket was a pair of embroidered silver wings that seemed to glimmer in the fading sunlight. Upon hearing them running around the corner, a familiar face turned around to see who was causing the commotion behind him. With an expression of shock, followed by relief, the man exclaimed, “Captain Wott, Captain Tillon! Boy are you a sight for sore eyes! We had given up hope on you two making it here! You should have been here days ago!”

“Oh man, am I glad to see you too!”, exclaimed Tillon. “I wasn’t sure we would make it in time.”, Tillon spoke, while bending over, hands on knees, visibly exasperated.

“Better tired then dead!”, Wott mused. “Our transport had been caught in a Bandit trap and ambushed. We barely made it out alive. Nobody else made it.”, Wott spoke solemnly.

The trio shared a moment of silence as if to pay respects to their fallen comrades. They looked each other in the eyes. There was a mutual understanding of how difficult the journey must have been. The world was falling apart at the seams, and they all knew it. A voice from the where the rest of Valkyrie Squad was busy loading supplies, called out telling them that loading was complete. Captain Angelo, the man with the wings on his flight jacket, motioned the rest of his squad to load into the transport. As they walked to the FasCart, it was hard to not marvel at the machine in front of them. Fast Assembling Supplemental Compartmentalized All-Terrain Rover Tank was a bit too long to use in normal conversation, so FasCart had become the default name for the vehicle in from of them. The truth of the matter is that this machine was no cart. It could go through just about any terrain and was modular enough to carry as little as a small squad or much as a full battalion. Even at full loads it could easily travel up to 300 MPH on asphalt.

Once the trio and the rest of Valkyrie Squad loaded into the FasCart and put on their harnesses, the massive transport lurched forward and then accelerated at an incredible speed. The entire ride took less than 40 seconds before the FasCart came to complete stop. Once they arrived, Angelo motioned the rest of Valkyrie Squad to get to work unloading the supplies and moving them into the transport ship that had been arranged for their departure. “I’m really glad you made it. I was going to have to fly that recovery mission all by myself and truth be told, I’m more of a transport guy, not really the search and rescue type.”, Angelo explained.

“What do you mean, recovery mission?”, asked Tillon, interrupting Angelo.

Angelo reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved a small FOB device and handed it to Tillon while speaking. “Look, a few weeks ago when we stopped receiving communication from the Lunar Ring Station while the head science officer was giving us the coordinates to Terra Firma, we thought it was just a communications failure. The mission was to send you up there to recover the crew, but we received more information. Intelligence from up the ladder confirmed that the GSS had intercepted and confirmed the full coordinates to Terra Firma just before the Lunar Ring Station had broken apart and exploded.”

“Captain Angelo, I assume you are talking about the Global-Alliance Space Station, the one that crash landed on the West Coast the day we were reactivated and ordered to come here from the West Coast?”, asked Wott frustratingly.

“It's Colonel Angelo actually," Angelo replied. “I got a field grade promotion so I could run operations down here and have the proper clearance to pick up some VIPs still holed up in the mountains.” Angelo continued, “Which is why I am handing you the FOB that operates this FasCart. While I go transport those VIPs to a Titan that is awaiting them in Low-Earth Orbit, I will need you to go back west and recover the coordinates from the head intelligence officer at the GSS crash site.”

“How can we recover the coordinates from the head intelligence officer?! That place is a graveyard!”, exclaimed Tillon.

Captain Wott interrupted, “Every head intelligence officer has all of their intelligence data encrypted onto a discrete, nearly indestructible data drive located on their person. Usually, it’s a tooth or a wedding ring.”

Angelo smirked, “And here everyone thought that having been drunk at all of those Aircom briefings you would have missed out on those small details. Very impressive captain.”

Ignoring Wott’s angrily raised eyebrow and curled lip, Angelo continued, “I want to level with you two here. This is not just about redeeming your careers. This about the future of humanity. I need you to be on point with this one. Even if Head Intelligence Officer Nicoles were burned to ash, the data storage device would have survived its owner’s demise. The device you are looking for is a small heart-shaped locket.”