July 15, 2019
Fort Grenden
Henry sat in a hospital room, his head slumped on his hand. His light snoring was an odd contrast to the subtle yet persistent beeps from the medical devices in the room. A knock on the door startled him as he stiffened up, awakening from his slumber.
“Sir,” Ron acknowledged, entering with a box.
Henry nodded his head in reply.
“How is he?” Ron asked, gesturing toward Kelmithus, a look of concern evident on his face.
Henry glanced over at Kelmithus. “Doc said he’s doing better. Thanks to Jones’ help, Kel should be able to be up within a week.”
“That’s good to know. I saw Kelmithus’ daughter the other day, Sari. Thank God we didn’t lose Kel, I wouldn’t be able to stomach seeing Sari’s reaction… She reminds me of my own daughter,” Ron said, his eyes slightly watering at the thought.
Henry sighed deeply. “Yeah.” After a moment of silence, he continued, “So what’s in the box?”
Ron opened it up, showing Henry the contents. “Eh, just some trinkets and artifacts we’ve collected. I would’ve brought flowers but I think this stuff might be more meaningful to Kelmithus.”
Henry perused the inventory, noticing several tablets, scrolls, and amulets. “Looks real fantasy-like,” he nodded in affirmation.
“Sir, I also wanted to let you know that the General has a new mission planned for Alpha Team. Something about a General Zhukov?”
Henry’s face darkened upon hearing the name.
“Know him?”
“Yeah, he’s a rogue Russian general. Let’s get to the briefing room.”
Ron simply nodded, sensing that he shouldn’t push further on that topic.
——
Henry and Ron took their seats in the briefing room, waiting for the General to arrive. Ron, taking note of Henry’s brooding, remained silent as they waited.
“Hi Owens! Hi, sir!” a feminine voice called out.
Henry turned around, “Hey Captain.”
“How’s Kelmithus doing?” she asked, her tone greatly contrasting with her upbeat attitude when she entered the room.
“He’s doing better. Should be up and about in a week or so,” he said as he watched Emma take a seat.
“Aw, well that’s good to hear. I wish I could visit more often, but I’ve been real busy helping out Dr. Tesla and Dr. Oppenheimer with Project Gateway.”
“Oh? How’s that coming along?” Henry asked.
“The Homagus data we found is helping out a lot, and so is Omnis. The other teams are already making good progress with Homagus generators and computers to actually run the portal, but as for us… We’ve been able to narrow down the initial search parameters from hundreds of petabytes down to a few terabytes, but we still have to sift through what’s left. We found several designs detailing an extremely advanced type of math, something we haven’t even invented yet.”
Henry and Ron each raised an eyebrow.
“We pretty much have the answer right in front of us, but we have no clue how to derive those equations or what they mean.” Emma folded her arms, sighing in exasperation before continuing, “And until we figure out what the math itself is called, we can’t search through the data to find textbooks or references.”
Henry looked out the window, toward the large circular structure that enveloped the portal. “Well, we’ve got enough time, right? Portal seems pretty stable still. And the President wouldn’t keep us here if access couldn’t be maintained.”
“Yeah, I think we have enough time. The portal has an estimated remaining lifespan of 58 months. That leaves 46 months to figure everything out.”
Henry nodded. Before he could continue the conversation, General Harding walked in with Dr. Jones.
“Sir!” They all saluted him.
“At ease,” he responded.
Everyone took their seats as General Harding prepared the projector and hooked his laptop to it. As he fiddled with the devices, he began to lecture. “I brought you all here today because you are the top field experts when it comes to dealing with Homagus sites and unorthodox environments.”
Henry and Ron looked at each other, sharing the same concern: how might this be related to a rogue Russian general on Earth?
General Harding began the presentation, showing satellite imagery of a mountain complex. “
“What I am about to discuss is classified information under a need-to-know basis. Due to the nature of your next mission, it has been determined that you all need to know.” General Harding passed around several folders. “Our target is this man: General Zhukov.” The projector displayed a portrait of General Zhukov in full military dress, taken during his time in service of the Russian military. His face seemed permanently contorted into a snarl, with several scars adding to the man’s unpleasant demeanor. “The information inside the folders detail his background and affiliations, but you can study his history later on. Three years ago, our intelligence agencies lost track of his whereabouts. After his gruesome skirmishes in Donetsk, he vanished. Until last month, we had no clue where he could’ve gone.”
General Harding paused as he allowed his subordinates to take in the information. “I’m sure you’re all wondering how a rogue general is related to our time here on Gaerra. If you flip past Zhukov’s background, you’ll find a report detailing an investigation: signs of Homagus activity on Earth. This is a lot of new information to take in, I know. Captain Lamarr actually knows more than I do about this.”
Emma nodded.
“Since you’re already familiar with this, would you mind filling us in?”
Emma stood up and gave an excited smile. “Of course, sir. Ever since our research teams moved into Site Beta One, they’ve had access to a trove of Homagus data. We’ve barely scratched the surface with this data, but we were able to prioritize certain analyses, thanks to the helpful categorization methods of the Homagus interface. Among these priorities was a map of the galaxy. Already, we’ve identified many systems in our little cluster of the galaxy. Getting to the point, we figured out that the Homagus once had a colony on Earth. Why we’ve not seen any significant signs — aside from various trinkets in Area 51 — is something for the archaeologists to figure out.” Emma glanced at Dr. Jones, who had an expression of intrigue. He leaned forward after hearing Emma say that, demonstrating his interest.
“Anyway, it turns out that our research teams in Site Beta One are able to access systems in other Sites. While they can’t fully control them, they can run diagnostics and view other miscellaneous reports that each Site sends to the Homagus Network. One of the first sets that we reviewed came from Earth, which was designated was Terr’ai. While collecting data to prepare for future expeditions, we came across an anomalous report coming from Site Alpha Four, located in Antarctica. It was active, so someone occupied the facility recently, which brings us back to General Harding’s mission,” Emma nodded toward General Harding.
“Thank you, Captain Lamarr.” General Harding clicked on his laptop. The presentation showed pictures of the Homagus site in Antarctica, the main entrance was surprisingly not buried under the ice and snow. “Three weeks ago, we sent a ten man team to investigate. Six came back. While exploring the area, they ran into an ambush from our old friend, General Zhukov.” He shook his head. “What are the chances of that? Anyway, my superiors are requesting the esteemed Alpha Team to help lead their next expedition. Pack your gear, folks. And don’t worry about the coats; all the warm stuff will be on the plane. Dismissed.”
——
En Route to Antarctica
The C-130 shuddered as it encountered turbulence, causing Henry to wake up. He looked around; the members of his team were still fast asleep, as were most of the other operatives. He checked his watch. One more hour before they land. He sighed and loosened his muscles as he allowed himself to become enveloped by the thoughts lingering in the back of his mind.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Sergei Zhukov… Henry hadn’t heard this name for a while. A Russian ultranationalist, General Zhukov exerted his influence in his attempts to restore the former Soviet Union. Disgruntled with the Russian government’s abandonment of his ideals and their growing ties with NATO, Zhukov decided to go rogue and led a faction of fellow ultranationalists to hideouts around Russia. For a time, the Russians paid no heed to Zhukov’s antics, as he had friends in high places. Many even sympathized with his passion, but for the sake of foreign relations kept their thoughts to themselves. A few skirmishes took place, but for the most part, the United States and her allies ignored Zhukov, fearing political backlash if they got involved.
They didn’t realize their mistake until the showdown in Donetsk. As a result of Zhukov’s subjugation of the region, several rebellions and protests sprung up. Coincidentally, several NATO-affiliated diplomatic teams were also present at the time. It was a recipe for disaster, with the unruliness throughout the city forcing the diplomatic teams onto predictable paths. Zhukov orchestrated a coordinated strike on the teams, capturing almost all of them. This series of unfortunate events was followed by another, with Henry caught in the middle.
Henry was on a routine patrol in the area when he encountered a squadron of trigger-happy Zhukovians who insisted that he was violating their airspace. They fired the first shot, then everything went to hell. His countermeasures were more than enough to keep himself alive, but he was unable to keep his fighter airborne on account of an overwhelming number of enemy units. Forced to eject and without functional communication equipment, he landed somewhere in the city, where he had to fight his way out. Wading through dead crowds of civilians caught in the crossfire was horrific, but he managed to push himself to safety. Navigating through this foreign environment and making it out alive with dozens of confirmed kills netted him a posting in Area 51, where he demonstrated his superior ability to adapt. As a result of his feats in Donetsk, he was assigned command of Alpha Team when the time came to explore the mysterious portal that appeared out of nowhere.
Until now, he never expected to revisit the tragedies that occurred on that fateful day in Donetsk. Now, as he looked out the window to see the beautiful ice sheets illuminated by the Antarctica summer sun, he could almost forget the reason he came here. A feeling of anticipation began to build up within him — anticipation for vengeance. “Zhukov”, he hissed inaudibly, clenching his fist and glaring out the window.
——
As the plane rolled into a large hangar, the pilot gave the passengers an announcement. “Alright folks, this is the Captain speaking. We’ve reached our destination here at Brockton Station. Keep in mind, this location is officially decommissioned, so no words are to be uttered about this facility. With that said, we hope you enjoyed your flight with the United States Air Force, and do hope to see you again. Have a good time in Antarctica, everyone.”
After the hangar doors shut with a metal echo, the pilot lowered the plane’s cargo ramp, allowing the passengers to stream out and unload their materials. Several base personnel helped to unpack the bulky Antarctic gear sealed within the crates while Henry’s team sorted out the weapons and equipment.
Henry’s team was then led to a large underground facility. They walked into a debriefing room, where they noticed a screen mounted on the wall with General Harding on it. Immediately, Henry and his team saluted, to which the general replied, “At ease.”
General Harding folded his hands together and began, “one and a half hours ago, during your flight to Brockton Station, we detected an energy signature from within the facility. The scientists say that this signature is consistent with readings acquired from portal generation, and is similar to what we detected months ago, during the initial Nobian incursion near our Groom Lake facility. Once you approach that area — within a five mile radius — communication will be impossible. Brockton will send someone to watch out for your relayed messages; he will meet you at the garage when you leave for the mission. Remember, it is imperative that we remain cautious. We do not know what resources Zhukov has access to, nor the lengths he will go to achieve his goals. Good luck on your mission.” General Harding saluted, then the screen faded to black.
A staffer had Henry and his men file out of the room and led them toward the armory, where their equipment was organized. Fluffy winter coats hung over numerous chairs while the weapons and gear were neatly assorted on tables, separated by name. Most of Henry’s men looked enviously at the advanced Homagus selection available to Alpha Team, and were most intrigued by the scepter that laid on the table under Dr. Jones’ name.
With everything ready to go, they entered the garage, where they found several snowmobiles waiting for them. A man holding flare guns and flags approached them. “I’m Corporal Alex Dunn,” he saluted, “I’ll be sitting back within communications range of the base. This equipment here will represent your only means of communicating with us,” he placed the colored equipment on a table. The flags and flares were separated into four categories: red, yellow, green, blue.
“Red represents a complete failure of the mission and serves to warn us of an impending attack. Yellow will signify your retreat, and we will come and assist you. Green will signify a successful mission. Blue will let us know that you have wounded, and we will send a team to extract them. In the event that you are unable to use flares, use the flags to relay the messages. I will have binoculars and will be spotting for your communication.”
Henry’s team nodded and asked no further question, opting instead to proceed with the mission. The blast doors separating the garage from the freezing winds outside opened, allowing sunlight to bask the interior. The icy environment glimmered under the sun’s glare, imposing mountains in stark contrast to the metallic constructs half-buried under the ice and snow. Henry and his men sped toward their objective, their coverings providing ample protection from the chilly winds incurred by the speed of their snowmobiles. As expected, their communications crumbled into static as they entered the Homagus site’s five mile radius.
They drove along in silence, briefly admiring their surroundings before they finally reached their destination. The Site was sealed, with the interface nearly frozen over. Emma and Dr. Jones approached the device, analyzing it for a minute before announcing their findings. To everyone’s dismay, they would need time to warm up the device and ensure that it was operational. Despite the process only requiring no more than half an hour, none of the operatives present wanted to stay out in the cold any longer than they needed to. Taking note of his shivering comrades, Dr. Jones took a few seconds to quickly cast an environmental bubble, which helped to insulate them from the freezing winds.
“Thank you, Dr. Jones,” an operative said through chattering teeth.
Jones nodded in reply before resuming his work. Working in tandem with Emma and utilizing Omnis’ advice, Jones was able to complete the arduous process of reviving the frozen device and restoring it to operational capacity. He placed his hand on the interface and opened the Site’s door.
The door groaned as it struggled to break free from the ice that encased its sides. Fortunately for Henry’s men, the door had seen recent use and was therefore able to open using its own systems.
When the door slid into the ice-covered walls of the complex, shards of ice from crashed into the ground. “Thank goodness,” Henry silently muttered, grateful that they didn’t need to spend even more time freezing outside. Henry then motioned for his men to clear out the entrance.
Dr. Jones held out a hand, saying, “Hold on, I have an idea.” Driving his staff into the snow, he channeled his energies, causing blue wisps of arcane energy to encircle him. Three ice golems sprung from the frozen wastelands and pushed into the Homagus site, serving as shields that could scout ahead of the main force.
“Good thinking,” Henry said before moving in behind the golems.
As they moved forward, they noticed splatters of blood on the ground and spent casings. Henry put his fist up, signaling for his men to stop moving. They hid behind cover as the golems advanced into a spray of gunfire.
Sharp cracks echoed throughout the entrance as bullets made contact with hardened ice. The enemy’s bullets were largely ineffective against the golems; it was like they were shooting into sandbags. The surprised hostiles adapted quickly, tossing grenades at the golems, but not before many of them succumbed to the icy slaughter from the unnaturally fast golems.
The hostiles screamed as the seemingly invincible constructs crushed several of them using icy blades and fists. One of the golems leapt to the back line of the hostiles, landing on one of their men and turning him into a fine red paste. The golem quickly turned around and swung its arm — which was more of a blade — and cut through two of the enemies, splattering the walls with gore.
Looking back toward Dr. Jones, Henry saw a blue glow emanating from him. He gave him a thumbs up, appreciating his help in the fight. Then, he signaled for his men to advance. They moved tactically through the shadows and crevices, spreading out to strike the distracted enemies from multiple angles.
The remaining dozen enemies managed to finally eliminate the golems using their explosives, causing shards of ice to fly in all directions. Many of them were pierced by the fragments, hindering their retreat.
“Fall back!” One of them said in Russian. “You! Run to the General! We will hold them off!” The man said to one of their comrades.
The runner took off, slipping past a dark corner before Henry’s men could eliminate him.
“Shit,” Henry muttered. Bullets flew past Henry and his men as the retreating Zhukovians sprayed blindly behind them. Several were picked off by a charged blast from Henry’s N109, leaving nothing but smoldering ashes and cauterized limbs. Henry signaled his men to advance, following the retreating hostiles into a hallway. As Henry turned the corner, he saw a door close.
They advanced slowly, making sure no one was waiting to ambush them. Once the coast was signaled to be clear, Henry led Emma and Jones to the door’s interface.
“They blasted it from the other side. We’ll need to find another way around,” Emma said.
All eyes turned to Jones. “Dr. Jones, any ideas?” Henry asked.
Closing his eyes for a second, Jones allowed awkward silence to permeate the air before giving an answer. “Follow me. I need to bring Omnis to Section 2 in order to take control of the facility’s systems. From there, we can make our own pathways.”
“Alright. Show us where to go.”
——
Henry’s team reached Section 2 without encountering any difficulty; upon viewing the various scans of the base, they learned that all of Zhukov’s men were holed up in Section 1.
While Emma and Jones worked on opening doors to reach Section 1, an alarm inside the facility began to blare, bathing the surroundings in a yellow light.
“Lamarr, Jones, what the hell is that?” Henry yelled over the alarm.
“I’m not sure sir! It wasn’t us!” Emma responded.
Dr. Jones held up a hand. “Omnis said this is the portal evacuation alarm! Like when the Homagus abandoned their Sites!”
Henry’s eyes grew wide in realization: Zhukov was attempting to escape. “They’re trying to run! Emma, Jones: stay here and take care of the systems! Everyone else, with me!”
The layout of each Homagus site was more or less the same, so Henry navigated to the teleportation chamber with ease. “Hands and feet inside the chamber, everyone!” He fiddled with a control panel, initiating the transportation process. A humming sound increased in intensity until the room was illuminated by a bright flash of light.
“Take a few seconds to recuperate.”
Henry’s men staggered about, some of them attempting to brace themselves against the walls. “Close your eyes and take a deep breath! I got pretty dizzy the first time as well.”
Once his men were ready to go, Henry led them toward Section 1. Having used the teleportation chamber to reach the cavernous hangar, they had the element of surprise. As they snuck into Section 1, they noticed most of the Zhukovians barricaded on the opposite side of the room; they had not expected an entry from behind. Looking toward the portal generator, they saw numerous men carrying boxes into it.
“Take as much as you can carry! We will not be coming back here!” A man said in Russian, his voice dwarfing even the sound of the blaring alarms. He was dressed in an officer’s uniform, unlike the other men who were wearing dark combat outfits and armor.
“General Zhukov…” Henry raised his rifle, charging up his weapon to full power. Scowling down his sights, he lined the crosshairs right on Zhukov’s chest. As he was about to fire, one of Zhukov’s men ran across his weapon’s line of sight, rushing around with a box. The blast intended for Zhukov was inadvertently blocked by one of his men, who was immediately deatomized by the fully charged blast, causing the entire cavern to shake. Blue wisps of plasma flew about, scalding some of the unfortunate souls who were hauling boxes near the now-atomized man.
Zhukov saw the spectacle and immediately dashed into the portal. He was followed by a horde of his men who didn’t even try to fight back against Henry’s team. Seeing this, Henry switched to his N25 and used the lowest power setting in order to stun some of the retreating Russians. “Take as many alive as possible!”
Henry shot one of the retreating men, causing him to freeze up and fall unconscious. He in turn tripped two of his comrades with the box of supplies he dropped, giving Henry two free shots. The rest of the Zhukovians, seeing this, dropped their heavy crates and dashed into the portal. As the last man ran through, the portal dissipated, creating a sharp sound as air was sucked into the circular gateway.
Henry checked on his men. Most of them emerged unscathed; a few were hit by lucky suppressive fire laid down by the Zhukovians as they retreated. “Corporal Dunham, Corporal Jackson: see to their wounds. I’ll go get Captain Lamarr and Dr. Jones. We will be firing flares to alert the base of our situation.”
Suddenly, someone’s radio crackled. Henry looked for the source, then reached for his own radio. “Is communications back up?”
“Hi, sir!” A high pitched voice called out.
“Captain Lamarr?”
“That’s right! Communications are back online. Looks like the Russians had unknowingly jammed our communications with their portal generation. I suspect that newly generated portals create electromagnetic distortions, and need time to stabilize. The one in Area 51 used to be quite disruptive to our gear, but nowadays we can bring all of our electronics near and through it just fine…”
“Okay, Captain. That’s good news. I’ll go on and radio Brockton Station.” Then, turning around to face his men, he congratulated them on their good work. “We came out of this with only a few injuries; that’s some good work everyone. We might not have been able to nab General Zhukov, but I reckon we won’t be seeing him for a while.”
——
Somewhere in the Eanif Imperium
“Halt! Identify yourselves!” A musket wielding man pointed his weapon and the intruding outsiders.
Before he was able to issue any further warnings, he was shot in the head.
“Take control of this facility. We will deal with the locals later,” General Zhukov ordered.