The ship's jump engine switched off. In the blink of an eye, the ship dropped out of faster than light travel and came to an almost dead stop five hundred meters from the California. It was obvious that the freighter had been hit. Jagged holes covered the side of the vessel where enemy missiles had penetrated the hull. Debris and bodies littered the s.p.a.ce around the stricken vessel. Worse than that, the remainder of the convoy including the frigate a.s.signed to defend it had also been destroyed. Less than a minute later, Lefol hailed Sheridan and Cole to meet her in the ship's briefing room.

Sheridan and Cole in full fighting order walked into the briefing room. On the wall was a 3D tactical display showing the destroyed convoy.

"Jesus," muttered Cole as he studied the wreckage.

Lefol walked over beside the two Marines. "The only life sign we have been able to detect is coming from the California. It looks like someone is still alive in the medical bay. It's weak, but it's evidence that someone survived the attack. The ship has totally depressurized so whoever is over there must be in a survival suit."

Sheridan looked at the California floating dead in s.p.a.ce. He could see that the main air lock doors commonly used for boarding the vessel had been destroyed. If they were going to board her, it would have to be through another entrance.

"I can see by the look on your face that you have noticed that we can't dock with the California," said Lefol to Sheridan.

"Looks like we're going for a s.p.a.cewalk," observed Cole.

"Ma'am, what are your orders?" asked Sheridan.

"I want you to board the California and help whoever is trapped over there. I also want you to download her computer logs. Fleet Headquarters is going to need to know what has happened and I want to know what we are up against before we jump to Illum Prime."

"And if the Kurgans return while we're over there?" asked Cole.

"Then you're on your own," replied Lefol. "I won't risk this ship and the supplies she is carrying to save you."

"Understood, ma'am."

Cole may have understood. Sheridan, however, was still having a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that he wasn't in training anymore and that he was at war.

"Gents, we can't afford to waste time. You have one hour to get over there ASAP, find what you are looking for and get back to the Churchill or I will leave you behind."

Sheridan and Cole came to attention, turned and left the room.

"Sir, how are you in zero gravity environments?" asked Cole.

"Sergeant, if you're wondering if I get sick, the answer is no. At the academy, I was the top of my cla.s.s in zero gravity combat training."

Cole stopped in the hallway, looked both ways to check that they were alone and then looked Sheridan straight in the eyes. "Sir, you need to lose three words from your vocabulary."

"What might those be, Sergeant?" replied Sheridan defensively.

"At the academy. Those words show that you have zero experience and are used by every platoon leader that I have ever come across. Flush them from your mind and you'll sound more knowledgeable when talking with your men."

"Well then, Sergeant, what should I have said?"

"Sir, all you needed to say was you don't get sick. Look, I know you think that I am being overly critical, but you need to understand that there isn't time to bring you along and inculcate you into being a platoon leader. Your time is now. You're in command and the Marines you are about to lead over to the California need to know that you know your job."

Sheridan was about to push back, but realized that he was wasting time and that Cole may have a point. Instead, he asked a question. "Sergeant, how long do you think it will take us to suit up, move over to the California, do everything Captain Lefol wants done and get back here?"

"It's going to be tight. However, the only two people who need to get ready are you and me. I figured this might happen so I ordered eight Marines to don their suits while we're gone."

Sheridan realized that he should have thought about that himself. Cole's depth of experience and his lack of any was beginning to show. "Good thinking, Sergeant."

"I thought so," replied Cole with a grin. "Come on, sir, they pay me to worry about the little things. Now, let's get to work."

Fifteen minutes later, Sheridan, Cole, and the eight handpicked Marines stepped into the airlock and waited for it to depressurize. Their s.p.a.cesuits were light gray in color. Each soldier was wearing a maneuver unit on their back to help propel them through the vacuum of s.p.a.ce. With thirty nozzles at different location on the unit, it was easy for a person in zero gravity to effortlessly move in any direction. At twenty-five meters per second velocity, it was going to take them twenty seconds to reach the closed airlock on the side of the destroyed ship.

The light inside the room changed from white to red. The artificial gravity turned off. The maneuver units automatically switched on and kept everyone in place. A second later the doors leading out into s.p.a.ce slid open.

Sheridan paused briefly. He had spent countless hours learning how to fly in the weightlessness of s.p.a.ce; however, that had been in a training environment where it was impossible to get hurt, unless he really screwed up. Now he was about to lead Marines into the unknown. Taking a deep breath to calm the b.u.t.terflies in his stomach, he gently pressed down on a b.u.t.ton on one the maneuver unit's arms. He moved out of the airlock and was closely followed by his soldiers, with Staff Sergeant Cole bringing up the rear. The debris field around the California was thicker and more hazardous than Sheridan had expected. Knowing that any puncture in his suit could lead to a loss of oxygen and death, Sheridan slowed his thrusters and began to deftly fly his way around the larger pieces of wreckage. His skin crawled when he saw part of a mangled body float by.

His heart started to race. His breathing sped up. Sheridan tried to focus on the job at hand so he wouldn't dwell upon the fact that he had never been so scared in his life. A voice came over the suit's intercom in his helmet. It was Cole. "Sir, slow down a bit, one of the men back here got his foot tangled in some debris."

Effortlessly pivoting around, Sheridan saw Cole pulling a Marine's foot free from some wires that were attached to a piece of the blasted out bulkhead. When the man was free, Sheridan turned about and headed straight for the air lock. When he was about five meters from the ship, he came to a complete stop. He floated off to one side of the door while one of the Marines moved over and inserted a universal key to manually unlock the doors. Without power, the entrance remained closed. Sheridan maneuvered over and helped one of the other Marines to pull the doors apart. He swore loudly when a burnt body shot out of the entrance, nearly hitting him. His heart jackhammered away in his chest. A hand reached over and pushed the body away. Sheridan saw it Cole. He was calmly looking at him. With a rea.s.suring nod of his head, Cole told Sheridan that he was doing ok. Taking a deep breath, Sheridan turned on the lights mounted on his helmet and peered inside. Another door leading inside the ship was closed. "Open it," Sheridan ordered.

Two soldiers along with the man with the key flew past Sheridan and Cole and opened the interior doors. It was dark and foreboding. As Sheridan had expected, the ship was dead.

"Ok, we'll split up here," announced Sheridan, trying to sound as confident as he could. "Staff Sergeant Cole with Alpha Team will proceed to the bridge and download the logs while Bravo Team and I locate the life sign."

Cole stressed, "Everyone RV back here in twenty minutes or you're staying here."

"See you in twenty, Sergeant," said Sheridan to Cole as he pressed a b.u.t.ton on his maneuver unit and moved into the blackened corridor. It was as inviting as a crypt. The four men from Bravo Team followed close behind, their lights illuminating the way.

The interior of the ship was a complete mess. Anything not bolted down to the floor now floated free. Coffee cups, papers, books and personal items all hung there as if waiting for the crew of the stricken vessel to return and reclaim their possessions.

Sheridan stopped for a moment to study the ship's layout on a small screen attached to the arm of his maneuver unit. "This way," he said turning down a side corridor. As his light lit the way, his heart jumped up into his throat. Floating wide-eyed was a corpse. Her arms were outstretched as if reaching for Sheridan. Her long blonde hair hung around her face. The temperature inside the vessel was several hundred degrees below freezing. Her body had frozen solid.

"s.h.i.t," said one of the Marines behind Sheridan.

"She probably won't be the last one we see in here," said Sheridan. "Come on, we've got a job to do." With that, he gently pushed the body aside and continued down the hallway.

As predicted, Sheridan was right. They found four more corpses before they arrived at the doorway to the medical room. He stopped by the door, dug out a small speaker from a pocket on his suit and placed it on the entrance. He keyed his mic and said, "h.e.l.lo inside the medical room, my name is Second Lieutenant Sheridan, are you alright?"

Silence.

Sheridan repeated his message.

"Maybe we're too late," said one of the Marines.

"Open the door," ordered Sheridan.

As before, the Marine using a universal key unlocked the doors while two soldiers pried them apart.

Sheridan was first inside. In the dark, a horrible sight met his eyes. At least a dozen injured men and women, who had been in the medical room when the ship decompressed, floated about the room. A cold shiver ran up his spine.

"There's supposed to be someone alive in here," said Sheridan. "Spread out and try to find someone in a med tube or survival suit."

Pushing the bodies aside as he moved to the back of the room, Sheridan felt his stomach turn. He had to force his mind to block out the images of the ghost-like bodies hovering everywhere.

"Sir...sir, I think I found a survivor!" called out a Marine.

Pivoting about, Sheridan moved over to the soldier. He was right. Tethered to a bed was a man inside a survival suit. Sheridan quickly checked over his vitals and saw that the man was stable but unconscious.

"Let's take him," said Sheridan to the two nearest Marines.

After a quick check of the room, they realized that they had found the sole survivor of the California.

Sheridan keyed his mic and told Cole that they were on their way back to the airlock. Captain Lefol, who had been listening in, acknowledged the message.

Five minutes later, Sheridan's team met up with Cole and his people.

Happy to be leaving the dead ship behind him, Sheridan pushed the b.u.t.ton for his maneuver unit's thrusters and headed back out into s.p.a.ce.

The instant that they stepped back inside the Churchill's airlock and closed the door behind them, the ship's jump engine kicked in, blasting them away from the wreckage. A pair of medical corpsmen waited for them on the other side of the doors. After handing off the unconscious man to the medics, Sheridan, Cole and the rest of the Marines moved inside and stripped off their suits.

Sheridan's clothes clung to his sweat covered body. He grabbed a towel and wiped the sweat from his face. With a heavy sigh, Sheridan sat down and looked down at his hands and saw they were shaking.

"It's ok, it's just the adrenaline leaving your system," said Cole as he took a seat beside Sheridan. "It happens to all of us."

Sheridan glanced over and saw that Cole's hands were as steady as a rock. "You're not shaking."

"I've learned to deal with it, doesn't mean I wasn't scared."

Sheridan made sure that none of the Marines could hear him. Quietly, he said, "I'd never seen a dead body before today. It's not something they prepare you for at the academy."

Cole nodded his head. "There's plenty they don't prepare you for. Wait until it's one of your own men. Trust me, it's an awful feeling you never really get over."

Sheridan shuddered. He decided to change the topic. "Did you get what the captain was after?"

"I sure did. Sir, did the man you found have any ID on him?"

"None that I could see."

Cole slapped Sheridan on the back. "Come on, sir, let's get changed and go see the captain."

Chapter 5.

With less than two hours to go before they arrived at their destination, Captain Lefol studied the computer logs downloaded from the California. The attack on the convoy had been carried out with surgical precision. First, the freighter had struck a cloaked mine, disabling her engines. When the frigate Orion stopped the convoy to allow the crippled vessel to make repairs, they were hit by a Kurgan raiding party. Once the Orion was taken out of action, the remainder of the ships in the convoy were picked off one by one as they tried to escape. She made a note to inform her superiors to abandon any ship that couldn't keep up with the others from now on. It was a cold move, but one she knew would guarantee a greater chance for survival for the others.

After handing over the bridge to her first officer, Lefol headed down to the medical bay to check on the patient brought over from the California. She found the ship's doctor checking the sleeping man's vitals.

"How is he doing?" she asked the doctor.

"He'll live," replied the doctor, a dumpy, redheaded man with a strong Scottish accent.

"Did you find any identification on him?"

The doctor handed her the man's ID discs.

"Tartov," said Lefol as she read the man's discs. "Is he in the fleet medical database?"

"Yes, he's listed as a Petty Officer Third Cla.s.s. He has no history of ill health. Unless he changed jobs recently, he's a computer technician."

"Do you think he'll be coming around soon?"

The doctor shook his head. "He's got enough drugs in him to knock out a horse. He'll be out for at least another twelve to twenty-four hours."

Lefol bit her lip. She'd hoped the man would be up well before that. They were heading into a dangerous situation and she needed answers. "Ok, thanks, Doc. Please let me know the instant he wakes up, I have a few questions I'd like him to answer."

"Can do. Is there anything else I can help you with, Captain?"

Lefol shook her head and left the room. Finding survivors on stricken ships was not unheard of. What dug at her was the fact that he was the only one wearing a survival suit when the ship was attacked. She couldn't believe that it was just a coincidence. There was more to the story than anyone knew and that bothered her.

In the mess hall, Sheridan and Cole sat silently at their table eating a light meal of soup and sandwiches. The usual loud banter between the young Marines had evaporated. After returning back to the ship, the Marines who had ventured over to the California came back with tales of horror and devastation. The brutal reality of war had just begun to sink home.

"Sir, shall I have the men ready for action when we arrive at Illum Prime?" asked Cole.

Sheridan nodded his head. He knew that Cole would have given the order anyway; he knew that it was his way of easing him into giving the orders. "Sergeant, since we don't have a medic with us I'd like a couple of medical packs given to the troops who scored the highest on their combat first aid in training. I'd feel better knowing that we had the med kits with us just in case we need them."

Cole looked over at the Marines and called out, "Simons, Garcia, draw a med pack each and carry it with you from now on."

"Yes, Sergeant," replied both Marines.

Sheridan said, "Sergeant, you picked two women."

"s.e.x has nothing to do with it, sir. You wanted the best and those two Marines are the best combat first aiders we have."

Sheridan placed his spoon down and looked over at Cole. "Sergeant, a couple of hours ago you said that we'd be lucky to live out the day. Do you still feel that way?"

"Yeah, I do. It's obvious that the Kurgans have been planning this for years. These strikes deep into our territory are a prelude to an all-out invasion. Illum Prime would make a great staging base for someone planning to take our outer colonies or some of the resource planets. When we arrive in orbit, trust me, we're going to find a Kurgan fleet waiting there."

Sheridan sat there for a second, not sure what to say. Everything Cole said made perfect sense. "If the Kurgans are already at Illum Prime, then why is the captain insisting that we go there?"

"She probably has standing orders that state in the event of war that she must reconnoiter the planet and report what is happening. Sir, you must have studied the last Kurgan War in the academy. What is the first thing the Kurgans would do if they were attacking Illum Prime?"

"They would knock out all of the planet's satellites, blinding it and making it unable to communicate with anyone in the Fleet."

"Precisely. They can't send a distress message, so that's why she has to take a look in order to determine if the planet is under attack."

"Jesus," mumbled Sheridan. "There has to be a better way of doing that."

"If there is, I'm sure the captain would be delighted to hear about it."

Two hours later, the jump engine switched off and the Churchill came to a sudden stop behind the largest of Illum Prime's four moons. On the bridge, Captain Lefol ordered the ship's sensor suite to be turned from active to pa.s.sive. She didn't want the Kurgans, if they were in orbit, to realize that they were being scanned. A small probe was launched so Lefol could get a better picture of what was happening on the other side of the moon. The ship's navigator and helmsman hurriedly computed their escape trajectory should they need to make an emergency jump back to the nearest colony.

"Ma'am, I'm getting a coded message from Fleet Headquarters," reported the communications officer.