Broken Soldier (Book One) (3 page)

“I’ve had a little time to study your race and we
seem to have a few things in common. We went through many thousands
of your years, killing each other, as various potentates strived
for power, until we reached a point where most of our needs were
being provided by the machines we built to make life easier.
Finally, we settled into a pleasant, almost lazy, mindset. That
lasted for eight hundred years.

“Then the enemy came. Initially, a friendly
agreement was made for peace and to exchange knowledge. Shortly
thereafter, they struck with ruthless abandoned, destroying our
factories and all of our leadership. It was done in less than one
of your weeks. As a peaceful race, and never having come into
contact with any other beings, we were totally unprepared.

“Our military was really nothing more than a modest
police force. Our crime rate was very low and we had no need for a
large armed presence on our planet or in space.

“We are an intelligent people and we realized that
these monsters meant to conquer us completely. We were willing to
fight for our freedom and were determined to vanquish our new foe.
So, we quickly attempted to establish a resistance. That merely
provoked the enemy to perform the most horrible atrocities and led
him to wage a merciless war of genocide against us.”

The woman’s voice began to expose its anger and
frustration, as though she spoke through gritted teeth. They
murdered billions of souls and destroyed the entire planet, making
it uninhabitable. There are only a few million of us left now and
we are all slaves, along side other races that have been
overwhelmed by these cruel, heartless creatures.”

While the woman spoke, the video had frozen on a
photo of a mutilated Thorian who was bleeding from the stubs of his
severed arms. When she spoke again, there was an absence of vitriol
and he suspected that when the video was being made, she had paused
the recording to regain her composure before continuing.

“I’m going to show you a picture of the enemy. You
can call them Saurans, or scaleheads or anything else you wish.
They evolved from a reptilian species, which were carnivorous. Like
many species in the universe, they are now omnivores. They don’t
generally eat their prey, but they will if they are low on
resources.

“My masters told me they can eat the flesh of my
people and some of them even prefer it. From other comments I
overheard, I believe they maintain thousands of my people as an
exotic food source, for those who enjoy it. Apparently the taste of
human flesh is repugnant to them. So, while they won’t eat you, I
assure you they will certainly kill you without compunction.”

She paused and a new photo appeared on the screen.
It was a tall, heavily muscled creature and it stood next to a
Thorian, which allowed Mike to make a judgment as to their size. It
was a full head taller, which would make it around eight feet. Its
girth was formidable, probably two, or perhaps three times as heavy
as a man. Clearly reptilian, it had brown scales with a few white
ones scattered in between, similar to the belly of an alligator.
The face was wide, with a strong jaw and jutting chin, somewhat
akin to an iguana. The protuberant eyes were on each side of its
head and probably functioned independent of one another. He
realized it would be damned hard to sneak up on the thing, because
its vision would probably cover 220 degrees, without turning its
head.

Its arms were fairly short for such a large
creature; yet thick and muscular. Each hand had three fingers and
an opposable thumb, except the thumb looked shorter than a human’s,
when compared to the scale of his own hand. The nails of the
fingers were short, thick and pointed, yet not quite claws. The
back of the beast seemed slightly humped or perhaps it was just the
natural curve of its spine. He couldn’t tell if the creature had a
tail or not. It wore a sleeveless shirt and long trousers,
revealing thick scaly skin and heavily muscled arms and legs like a
body builder. The boots suggested wide feet, which made sense
considering the size and weight of the beast.

A belt looped over its shoulder and contained some
sort of weapon, or so he imagined. Mike suspected the tiny object
attached to the belt around its waist was some sort of
communication device.

The creature certainly looked odd and reptilian,
with perhaps a hint of prehistoric beast to him. He could see the
intelligent evil in its eyes, which definitely reminded him of the
cold hard glare of a reptile. The Thorian standing next to it
seemed to cower in the presence of its master.

He thought it would be a mistake to prejudge the
creature based on looks alone. After all, it was the Thorian who
had kidnapped him, not the evil looking animal on the video. He
reminded himself that he had no way of knowing whether either of
these creatures could be considered friend or foe. It would be best
to remain silent about his true feelings and keep an open mind.

The woman went on, “The vessel your are in was made
by a race that was conquered many generations ago. The Mother Ship
is also of their manufacture, although it was built at the command
of the Saurans. There is much history for you to learn and it will
be easily absorbed, once you have the necessary adjustments made to
your body.”

He disliked the way the woman talked of physical
changes to his body. Even though he had apparently been
miraculously healed in eye and legs, he wasn’t about to fall prey
to this Thorian, by accepting everything he was told. The old adage
‘Beware of Greeks bearing gifts’ came to mind.

In his Army days, he had been untrusting of a few of
his own officers, and he certainly wasn’t about to buy what this
alien was selling, without a great deal more information. At the
very least, he would need a lot more provable info.

Also, he knew that none of this had been done for
his benefit. This Thorian had an ulterior motive and until he could
figure it out, he would play it very carefully. Although he held,
what would seem to be an empty hand, he knew there was something
this guy wanted from him, which meant Mike represented something of
value. He was sure he wouldn’t like the price the creature would
demand for the improvements to his body.

The portal that had delivered his food closed, and
then reopened. Folded on a shelf was a light blue set of overalls,
just like the Thorian had worn in the video.

The screen went blank, retuning to a white wall. The
mechanical voice said, “Sergeant, for the moment, I’ve provided you
with a uniform. Sewn into the shoulders are tiny speakers, which
connect to the language converter. It will be awkward, but when we
meet face to face, we can communicate more easily. Please put the
uniform on.”

He decided to cast a small challenge to the alien.
“How do I know there isn’t some chemical in the uniform that will
alter my thinking.”

“Sergeant, I understand your concern. Certainly you
must realize that if I wished to do that, you would already be
under my control. I could have administered it to you at any time.
There is a great deal more to cover, before we proceed, so please
put on the uniform.

The voice explained, “I have to do a survey of the
solar system, before I devote any more time to you. It’s vital that
we function without being detected. I expect the Saurans to send a
scout eventually. But that probably won’t happen for a year or two.
Still, if we want to live, it’s wise to be absolutely certain.”

Mike asked, “And what if they are here? What would
you do then?”

“A reasonable question. Depending on where they are,
I would either remain hidden and silent, or go as quickly as
possible to the Mother Ship. If we can beat them to it, we might be
able to escape.”

Mike thought for a moment, before pressing the
creature. “How do you think they would react if they thought you
had left the area?”

“It is impossible to be sure, but I suspect they
would leave and return in a year or so and destroy your
planet.”

Mike blurted out, “Why would they do that? We’re
obviously generations of development behind them. We’re no threat
to them.”

“The mother ship was sent here alone to do research
on humans. When they realize that their research ship has
disappeared, they will assume that humans either destroyed it, or
captured it. Capture would be much worse to their way of thinking,
because it could provide substantial scientific knowledge to your
people. I can’t be sure, but I suspect these reptilians have not
had a ship captured for many hundreds of years. Therefore, in their
minds, humans would pose a serious threat.”

After a long silence, the Thorian said, “They are
creatures without conscious and they are ruthless, yet cautious.
They won’t risk leaving your people alone, only to be confronted by
humans a thousand years from now. It’s easier for them to kill off
all of humanity now, rather than fight you later, when you may have
developed adequate weapons to threaten them.”

He was stunned. Was any of this true? If it was,
then the galaxy was a very dangerous place indeed. In kidnapping
Mike and attempting to recruit his help, this crazy Thorian had
possibly exposed the Earth to suspicion and jeopardized the entire
human race.

Another question hit him. “Hey, if you’re a slave,
how did you get hold of that Mother Ship?”

“All will be explained to you shortly. The sooner I
finish my survey, the sooner we can meet.”

“How long is that going to take?”

There was no answer. When he repeated his question
louder, he still received no response.

Mike lifted up the blue uniform and held it against
his torso. As he did, a pair of blue boxer shorts fell on the
floor. How very fucking considerate, he thought angrily.

The uniform was similar to a flight suit and did
look to be the right size for him. Just as he was about to put it
on, he noticed the two small devices on each shoulder. Apparently
those were the speakers. He wondered if this uniform had belonged
to another human at one time. And if it did, what had happened to
him.

Then an entire range of questions began to flood his
mind. What did the alien expect Mike to do for him? What propelled
this spacecraft? How fast could it fly? Was it stealthed? Did it
possess weapons to defend it? Was it shielded against radiation? If
not, he was in deep shit. So many questions and the information
that had been given to him, thus far, only served to generate many
more.

Chapter
3

When Mike’s son Wayne was born, their life had taken
on a new dimension, which he and Sherry gladly embraced. He was a
sweet kid and smart as a whip. He was so very proud of his dad, and
loved seeing the various ceremonies of military life. He became so
excited to see soldiers marching with rifles, bands playing, the
sound of artillery and taps on the bugle.

Wayne was nine years old, when Mike was wounded. The
army offered to fly Sherry to Germany to see her husband. He needed
time to gain some strength, mentally and physically, before being
flown to Washington D.C., where he would begin his extensive
therapy at Walter Reed Army Medical Center.

His wife had her mother stay at their house with
Wayne, while she was flown to Germany to be with Mike. Sherry told
their son daddy was hurt and needed time to recover. Little Wayne’s
concern was written on his face, as he asked, “Is daddy hurt
bad?”

They didn’t believe in lying to the boy. She broke
down in tears and told him, “Yes honey, daddy’s hurt really bad.
But he’s going to live and when he finally comes home, he’ll be
with us forever. So, that’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

Wayne began crying, as soon as he saw his mother’s
distress. After hugging and kissing her son, he calmed down, and
then asked, “Mommy, is dad a hero? Did he do good?”

“Oh yes, baby. Daddy is definitely a hero and he did
very good.”

Three weeks after Sherry arrived in Germany, the
doctor declared Mike well enough to be flown back to the States.
Sherry went on to Fort Campbell, Kentucky to be with Wayne. They
had talked extensively about the timing for telling their son about
the seriousness of Mike’s injuries. She felt it would be best if
she explained it to their son, before he made the trip to
Washington to see his dad and Mike agreed.

Wayne didn’t take it well at first. In the past,
whenever Mike was home, they had a very active life together, and
male horseplay was always a part of it. They tossed baseballs and
footballs back and forth, and Mike would chase his son around, as
they laughed and enjoyed each other’s company.

The boy realized those moments were lost. Sherry
assured him that there were plenty of other things they could do
together. But, she could see the doubt in the lad’s expression.

By the time Sherry and Wayne came to visit him at
the hospital, Mike had begun some modest therapy and his facial
scaring had begun to heal nicely. There was still a lot of redness
on the left side of his face, and Mike had the doctor explain to
his son that it would clear up, with time.

But, there was no hiding the obvious truth about his
legs. It would be some time before his stumps would be healed
enough to try out temporary prosthetics. Wayne insisted on seeing
the raw stumps for himself.

He bravely told his father, “I want to see your legs
dad. I won’t cry, I promise.”

So, reluctantly, Mike pulled away the sheet,
revealing the remains of his once powerful legs. The ends were
bandaged and when they came into view, Wayne was confronted with
the reality of his father’s missing limbs.

In a quivering voice, Wayne said, “Gee whiz, dad,
their different lengths. It looks weird.” Then his son, the apple
of his eye, began to cry.