“Please don’t go,” Jana pleaded, tears also streaming down her cheeks.
Michael held her one last time “I’ll be back soon, I promise,” he said softly, then he gently kissed her, picked up his belongings; and left. Leaving Jana and Theo; his wife and son, huddled together; crying; and desperate for his return.
After closing the apartment door behind him, Michael stopped and looked at the ceiling. He let out a long sigh; his heart was pounding with emotion. And he was wondering if he was doing the right thing leaving Jana and Theo so soon, especially with Theo’s birthday coming up; he felt like a monster.
Suddenly Dylan Marcos came down the corridor suitably laden with gear; Michael and Dylan were friends right through their academy days. They even got posted to the same ship; Marcos was weapons officer, where Michael was a deck officer.
“Wondering if this was what you signed up for?” he said as Michael joined him.
“Something like that,” Michael replied with another sigh, “We haven’t had a level 2 alert for fifteen years Dylan, what the hell has happened?”
“Beats me, for a level 2 alert they would have had to have blasted the Montfort or something.”
“Jana had mentioned that something wasn’t right out there, and she was right.”
The alert states as they are known in the E.D. F are a system not dissimilar to the Def-con system that America once used on Earth. Alert level 5 is the standard level during peacetime operations. Alert level 4 is increased security. Level 3 is security status high, imminent attack. Level 2 is unprovoked attack threat of invasion. And finally level 1 means all out war.
Both Michael and Dylan strode into an awaiting elevator. “Docking port twelve,” they both said in unison.
The elevator began to gently glide to their destination.
“If they have blasted the Montfort, why didn’t their fighters pick anything up?” Michael asked.
“ Maybe they couldn’t detect whatever it was, or couldn’t react in time.”
“Even with L.R.D.A. T?”
Dylan simply shrugged, he had no idea either.
“Either way, we’ll find out more at the briefing,” Michael continued.
They arrived at docking port twelve, and the doors opened into utter pandemonium, hundreds of officers and crewmen were running to and fro, supply crates were hurriedly being loaded onboard the Ulysses, just as they were with other ships docked at the station.
Walking towards the airlock, a stern looking Lieutenant Commander Dyson greeted them, he was head of security and barred their way “I.D. cards please, Lieutenants?”
Dylan and Michael saluted the Lieutenant Commander, as two crewmen hurriedly pushed their way past them carrying a heavy looking grey case.
“Careful with that! They’re ammunition crates.” Dyson shouted at them.
“Yes sir,” the two crewmen replied as they hurried onto the ship clutching the crate.
Michael and Dylan duly presented their I.D. cards and the Lieutenant Commander placed them into a small card reader he was carrying, pausing a moment while studying the display.
“Yep, your clear; welcome back Lieutenants.”
“It’s the busiest I’ve seen Delta base in a long time, sir,” Dylan said to the Lieutenant Commander.
“Whole goddamn galaxy’s gone barking mad if you ask me Lieutenant.”
Dyson handed the two Lieutenants back their I.D. cards. The three officers saluted once more, and Dylan and Michael made their way back on board the E.D.F. S Ulysses once again.
As the two Lieutenants rounded a long corridor, within the labyrinthine vessel, Michael said to Dylan. “I’ll meet you at the briefing, I’m just going to stow my gear and freshen up first.”
“Okay, I’ll catch you there.”
Their paths separated and each continued on towards their quarters, both were located on separate sections of the Ulysses. Michael’s Quarters were located within the Officers quarters on B block, forward section, on deck 4.
Dylan’s however was located near the munitions storage areas; on deck 12.
Michael proceeded to a set of steps and then at the end of the corridor he entered an elevator.
Soon he arrived at his Officers quarters on deck 4 and began to stow his gear in the lockers provided. Casting a glance over his cramped quarters he sighed, it was like he had never been away. Like he had never seen Theo’s smiling face, or Jana’s loving stare.
He stowed his spare clothing in a large overhead locker, and the empty bag under his bunk. Making his way over to the adjacent bathroom, he splashed his face with cold water in an attempt to wash away the cobwebs, and the emotion left over from Jana’s onslaught on his heartstrings.
Drawing a deep breath he checked his watch, it was 10:40, he let out another sigh and headed out of his quarters to the briefing on deck 14.
He met up with Dylan again just as he was heading down another corridor, and asked, “Have you heard anything yet?”
Dylan shook his head, “No, not a thing. Whatever has happened, they are keeping very tight lipped about it.”
Soon they entered deck 14, and walked past a small metal sign that read ‘cargo hold’. The two of them walked through a large open set of heavy looking steel doors, and into a vast hall.
Inside, a small platform had been prepared, with a large portable viewer behind it. There were rows upon rows of seats, all neatly arranged in front of this platform, the spot lights in the ceiling were angled toward the platform bathing it in a soft glow, as well as the rows of seats, and cast the large storage racks looming on the periphery of the room into darkness. Some crewmembers had already filtered in, and several of the front rows were already full. Michael and Dylan walked somewhere in the middle, sat down and waited for the briefing to begin.
Another officer, whom the two of them didn’t know, walked onto the stage, carrying a polished wooden lectern, and placed it in the middle of the platform. He then proceeded to attach a small microphone onto the lectern. The shriek of the feedback as the officer turned the microphone on made everyone in the hall cringe.
On the stand of this lectern, there was a plaque, which bore the seal of the E.D. F Navy; an eagle, inside a planet, and surrounded by a wreath.
Slowly the room began to fill up. When everyone was finally inside, another officer at the rear of the hall pressed a button and the giant steel doors slowly closed with a customary gentle metallic grinding noise.
There was a small pause, and hushed whispering voices could be heard, as the crew tried in vain to deduce what the briefing was about. A Naval whistle cut through the air, and, as one, the entire crew stood to attention.
“Captain on deck!” An officer shouted to the side of the main body of men.
Captain Wainwright, the grizzled, experienced commanding officer of the E.D.F. S Ulysses, strode confidently onto the platform, carrying a black leather bound book. It was again depicting the symbol of the E.D. F Navy.
“Gentlemen, please be seated.” The softly spoken Captain announced.
The men all sat down at once.
Although Michael had never actually spoken to Wainwright himself, he knew from what others had said that the good Captain was one of the best in the fleet, and that this was his second command. Rumours had been also circulating recently among the lower ranks that he was also considering his retirement after commanding the Ulysses for nearly nine years.
“What you are about to hear is highly classified information, it does not leave this ship. Exactly the same briefings are being held throughout the fleet. Do you understand?”
The crowd shouted in unison, “yes sir!”
“Good, then the briefing can begin,” the Captain replied. “As of 09:00 hours the carrier E.D.F. S Montfort, which you may know if you read the news was stationed near the Agemman system. The ship was attacked by an unknown alien force and destroyed with all hands, resulting in the deaths of 740 men and women.”