It certainly was. Shaun was roused from his wild dreams by the sound of reveille playing. He didn’t care to find out what happened if he didn’t rise and shine quickly, so he rolled out of bed and grabbed the towel and toiletries kit that had been supplied to him late last night, after they were flown from the forward base back to Command Central. Tents were waiting for them, ready to go. But even that had been interesting: for all this group knew about him and his friends, they had at first bollixed the sleeping arrangements and had him and Alissa rooming together instead of Alissa with Kenny. The error was quickly rectified, but it amused him that they would have made such a blunder.
The showers had actual hot water, for which he was grateful. The towel was nice and soft: not the kind of thing he expected in the military, but maybe they had changed over the years? The toiletry kit contained soap and shampoo each in a paste form, a toothbrush and miniature dual head rotary shaver that fit on his fingers to guide it. It made the smoothest shave he could remember for a while.
Back in his small but private tent he pulled out the clothes that had been supplied to him: all tan khakis, not camo and not the white uniform. He had the thought that this was probably trainee clothes, which of course was what he now was. There was also a packet containing labels with his name on them, some laundry labels and some that went over his shirt pockets and on his cap. He put them on and got dressed.
Once he stepped out of the tent, he was lost. The time on his watch said 6:50: he had ten minutes to find his way to the briefing.
“Matthews! Lookin’ lost, son! Need to find your debriefing?”
Shaun snapped to attention and saluted, as he could see serious metal on this man’s camo shirt, right above the name tag of “Holland.”
“Sir, yes, sir!”
Holland saluted back. “At ease, soldier! The tent you want is down that aisle, marked ‘HQ.’ Good day!”
Shaun turned and trotted off in the direction indicated, looking for labels on the tents. They seemed to be haphazard, and then it occurred to him that this was probably deliberate. If a flyover could not pinpoint the command center, that was a distinct advantage.
He found the HQ tent and entered, finding Kenny and Alissa already there.
“Good morning! Ready for briefing?” asked Kenny, beaming in his new clothes. Alissa looked very sharp, the outfit doing much for her figure.
“You bet! Let’s see what we know and don’t know!”
The other man in the room, little older than them, wore a white uniform with the name tag “Randolph” on it. “Good morning. Thank you all for being prompt. Let’s get started.”
He passed them each a tablet computer, showing them how to activate it with a double tap, then pulling up a file on the screen.
“This is a very unusual case, so this will be a very thorough briefing. We assume you know nothing, so here goes everything.”
Shaun grinned at that, but kept quiet as he perused the first page of the file: a set of calendars.
“By your Anno Domini Earth calendar, today is April 3, year 2586, 20:37 GMT as of 0700 local time. Local time is 0700 out of 2833 for the day, month Aphrodeus, Midday the 12th.
“So: on Hokliss, each full calendar day is twenty-eight and a half standard hours long. Weeks are eight days long, there are precisely four weeks in each of 16 months, thus 32 days each month, then each year has an additional six or seven days between the last month of one year and the first month of the next. Those days are always a holiday.
“If you look at page two of your information, you’ll see that Hokliss is the seventh planet of sixteen in the system of the star Donald Lundsford, a much larger but cooler star than your home star of Sol. Don appears a bit larger in the Hokliss sky than Sol on Earth. It is occasionally partially eclipsed by any one of the three moons around Hokliss, named Huey, Dewey, and Louie.”
Shaun and Alissa snickered at the last bit, but Kenny almost took a nosedive out of his seat, laughing hysterically. Randolph looked peeved. “So: what’s the joke here?”
Kenny shook his head, trying to recover his composure. “Not on you, sir. Just, some colonist or whoever was responsible for naming the moons was a fan of 20th century cartoons. Donald Duck is a famous cartoon character, and has three nephews named Huey, Dewey and Louie.”
Randolph considered it, and grinned slightly. “I see how that could be funny.”
Kenny nodded. “And not just that: you call your sun ‘Don?’ So, like, is the first light of day called ‘Donrise?’ Or is it ‘the break of Don?’”
Shaun couldn’t help but laugh as well at that. But he stifled it quickly, while Kenny took a moment to compose himself before he sat back down. Randolph evidently got what he was saying, though, and his grin grew a bit broader for a moment before he turned serious again.
“Alright: thank you for the history lesson. Let’s continue: Hokliss geography.
“Hokliss is largely covered by a sludge of oily liquid locals refer to as ‘slick.’ Slick is lighter than water, so all surface water is submerged under a coat of slick approximately 10 meters deep. This prevents evaporation, which means that precipitation on Hokliss is rare indeed.
“A lack of surface water also means no fertile topsoil. The land masses of Hokliss are mostly covered in sand, with some scrub brush, some trees and cacti. This undergrowth is sparse, but it is enough to support some insect populations and several varieties of imported birds.”
As Randolph spoke, their tablets displayed various images corroborating his descriptions.
“The capitol city of New Philadelphia is a Ziggurat: one giant building constructed up the side of a hill overlooking one of the slick oceans. They pump water up from under the slick into the city, and run it down a stepped waterfall from the top of the city all the way down. This aerates the water, humidifies the air and supplies water throughout the city while creating a beautiful park running through the middle. Swimming pools, picnic sites and other attractions are staged throughout.”
Shaun found himself holding his breath as images of the incredible city passed across his screen. “Like Drake described, only more,” he breathed. Kenny nodded to Randolph. “Yeah: we had been told a little about New Philly, but seeing it spread out for real under the camera? That’s awesome!”
Randolph looked pleased. “There are four other ziggurats on Hokliss, but this is by far the largest.
“Hokliss is ruled by a hereditary Duke: Sir William Calvert. Naturally, he is required to defend his realm as a Juggernaut pilot. His family owns a 125-ton massive weight Warlord, equipped with a Command suite, a boosted PPC, midrange and long-range missiles and a crapload of midrange lasers.
Kenny fist-pumped in midair. “Yes! Calvert! We know this guy! I mean, no, we haven’t met in person, but--”
“Kenny?” Alissa’s voice was cautious. “I think we had best hold judgment on whether this is actually going to be the same person that we ‘met.’ We only have Drake’s interpretation of him, and besides, if he is still piloting the Warlord, then--”
Shaun stepped in quickly: “Yes, Alissa’s right. We may know a whole different history that doesn’t match this guy. Or doesn’t match him _yet_: and shouldn’t be shared…”
Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.
Kenny’s eyes opened wide at that. “Yeah: I got you.”
Randolph’s face grew serious. “You know something Duke Calvert should know? No time like the present to spill the beans, okay?”
Shaun shook his head. “No, sir. We were just playing a stupid game. The history of events we played out on the board may have nothing to do with the actual history of the real Hokliss and the people on it. The fact that Duke Calvert pilots a Warlord -- just proves we don’t know everything, and really need the rest of your briefing. Thank you.”
Randolph looked doubtful, but continued. “Duke Calvert’s younger brother Jason pilots a 100-ton heavy weight Black Manta. The Manta is a long-range hitter, packing two PPCs and a heavy cannon, plus a couple of midrange lasers for rear protection.”
It was Alissa’s turn to stifle a laugh. “Not that they ever did him much good!” she chuckled.
This time Randolph grinned. “So, you do remember some of your early history with us! Everyone knows the story of how you two had a challenge out in the hills, you jumped behind him and kicked him off the summit!”
Alissa looked surprised. “So that already happened, in real life? Not just in game?”
Randolph shook his head. “Not just a game. You and your Eagle's Claw are legendary for that exploit.”
Kenny waved a hand. “Mr. Randolph? How does all this work exactly? Everybody here seems to practically worship us for things we haven’t done yet, but it sounds like we did!”
Randolph nodded. “It’s Lieutenant, actually. But here’s what you need to know.
“Two years ago, the Calverts were caught in a heated battle with Pon Fao Jin, a bandit who had crossed over from the border with the Cheung Dynasty, and his company. William, Theresa and Jason had been backed into a corner by the bandits and were in serious jeopardy. Then the three of you appeared on the battlefield with your own Juggernauts, and very quickly turned the tide of battle. You may have saved their lives, or at least prevented their capture which could have been nearly as bad.
“When the battle was over, you were greeted as heroes at once. You explained that you came both from our past and our future: that you were born more than 500 years ago, but had traveled to a point later in our history, been trained by us as Juggernaut pilots, and then come back in time to help us and as you said, ‘establish your street cred.’ You also stated that you had reason to believe you would be coming back one more time: that there was some final battle you needed to be here to help us through. How you had such knowledge, we’re not sure, but you assured us it was so.
“For obvious reasons, we cannot share much detail about what you did while you were here: that part of your history hasn’t happened yet, and it would get very confusing if you knew everything ahead of time. Suffice it to say that each of you proved your mettle in combat, and we are very pleased to have you back even in a trainee mode. You gave to us: our turn to give to you.”
Shaun sighed, putting his head in one hand and shaking it softly. “Man! I always thought time travel would have to be complicated, but this is beyond ridiculous. Our future is your past, then your future again? Insane!”
Kenny nodded. “Yep. I’m getting the same headache you got, Shaun.”
“Hold on,” Alissa spoke up. “We’re all forgetting the most important question of all. Who in the world made it possible for us to time travel, and why? What do they want from us?”
“That’s three questions, actually,” remarked Kenny, at which Alissa rolled her eyes: “and I don’t think we had actually forgotten: we just hadn’t got that far yet. Answer is: ‘I don’t know, but I’m betting it was someone from the farthest point in the future that we’re going to. Not like anyone here or back home would have access to that kind of tech, and especially not miniaturized enough to fit in a hair dryer.”
“More like a curling iron, not that it matters,” replied Alissa: “but yes, that seems sensible. Someone has put us on a journey, and they probably expect to meet us at the end. And we are presuming ‘the end’ will be the furthest point in the future.”
“Hold on,” said Randolph, shaking his head: “You guys didn’t plan this? You don’t even know who created the time travel device?”
“Nope,” answered Shaun: “we’re more surprised by all this than you are. We’re just college students from the 21st century. Don’t you think if we had time travel, that by the 2500’s it would be everywhere?”
Randolph paused. “Well, that makes sense. And explains a lot. I mean, who would choose to have arrived all in one hovercraft instead of your individual Juggernauts?”
Alissa shook her head. “We don’t know anything about piloting an actual Juggernaut. We would have been useless spread out that way. The hovercraft was almost intuitive, and we were together. I think we boosted each others’ morale by just being there, and of course being regaled as heroes spurred us on. I can’t imagine that the outcome would have been at all similar had we each arrived alone inside a complex cockpit for a Juggernaut.”
Randolph pondered. “Obviously someone did this who wanted the best outcome for you. I’ll take your questions to the Strategy Board, see if we can come up with any answers.
“Meanwhile, shall we continue the briefing?” Randolph paused to get their focus back, and tapped his tablet for the slide show / video to continue.
“Hokliss lies between two provinces of the Union of Free Colonies, close to the border with the Cheung Dynasty. The provinces basically ignore Hokliss and several other small systems in this area, which leaves these worlds unguarded and attractive to bandits. Duke Calvert has been in touch with many of them, seeking to create an alliance which might eventually become a new province. In the meantime, this group has little support from either Governor Denise Strand, leader of the UFC, or the Assembly which rules under her. The provinces get most funding: unaligned worlds in the Union, a bare pittance shared.”
“So: the UFC has little interest in eliminating the border bandits, and neither does the Cheung Dynasty, administered by the Emperor Cheung Wi Shang and his Cabinet of Ministers. What Cheung does insist on is no incursions over his borders, and Governor Strand wishes to keep the peace, so she has levied harsh penalties for anyone who crosses over into Cheung territory. She does give some extra funds and support for border patrol, and Calvert is eligible for that funding thanks to his work with the other local planets.”
“That’s good,” ventured Shaun: “but how supportive is Strand? Are we talking replacement Juggernauts if ours get blown up? Or at least replacement weapons and ammo, or just funding and we have to fend for ourselves?”
“A replacement Juggernaut would be most unusual, most likely only happening if the first one was lost in some heroic manner deserving a medal as well. Most weapons could be requisitioned, and yes, extra funding comes for the border patrol.”
“Fair enough,” reasoned Kenny. “Strand can’t afford to be too generous or pilots might get reckless and sacrifice their rides too freely. But there’s no avoiding the fact that weapons and armor get damaged in battle, and need replacement. ‘Requisitioning’ means we have a good, stable supply, and don’t have to go running to the black market for possibly defective units.”
“Well said,” Randolph concurred. “So: this concludes the prepared portion of the briefing. The floor is open to any questions you may have.”
Alissa popped up at once. “What can you tell us about our Juggernauts? Details, please!”
Randolph smiled. “Understand that you will go through basic training outside your units before you are allowed to pilot them, but here goes.
“Alissa, we have your Eagle's Claw. It is a 75-ton medium weight Jug, all energy weapons and thus no ammo to either run out or blow up on you. You have maximum jump capability and speed, two generators and capacitors out the wazoo to support all this. Your generators have a nitro boost function: when you are fully charged you can dash 720 meters in 10 seconds, as fast as the fastest standard Jug we know. You also have anti missile systems for the rare occasion when your speed is not enough to get you out from under fire. As a medium Jug, your armor is lighter than the heavy Jugs but has been enhanced as much as possible for your weight class.”
Alissa practically jumped out of her chair in excitement. “It can really do everything I do on the table? Two large boosted electrolasers, four boosted midrange lasers, and everything else you said? Pinch me, quick!”
Randolph laughed and continued. “Kenny: you are piloting an Undertaker, a 130-ton massive weight centauroid Jug with not one but two massive rail guns capable of throwing 200-lb copper-iron slugs a mile in under a second. These work as do hollow point bullets, in that they mushroom on impact to do maximum damage. You also have four boosted midrange lasers and leg-mounted machine guns for infantry suppression. What you do not have is hands, speed or jump capability.”
Kenny groaned ruefully, but nodded. “Hard to have a tank and be able to fly as well. But I’ll be happy with the tank, and those rail guns.”
Randolph nodded. “Shaun: you have a 95-ton heavy weight Jug stolen from Pon Fao Jin’s company, called a Duo-shi. The Duo-shi has medium speed and jump capability, long range missiles, midrange boosted electro lasers, and something very unusual: a sword. The sword normally folds back along the arm, but can be extended and used almost instantly when closing on an opponent.
“We are somewhat familiar with Jugs carrying axes, and it seems like a sword would not do as much damage, but based on your experience we have found the sword does a remarkable job at cutting off arms, sometimes legs, and even heads. So, don’t take its presence lightly.”
Shaun nodded. “Not what I was expecting, but I’ll give it a try. Sounds interesting.”
“Good. Any other questions?” Randolph looked at them expectantly.
Alissa waved her hand again. “When do we start training?”
“Right after the debriefing, coming up at 0900. We’ll be asking the questions there, about you, your experiences in the 21st century, what happened on the mission, all that. Then we’ll get you in the simulators, and get you started.”