Gracie's Touch Zion Warriors 1 (4 page)

Grand Admiral Kordon Jefe strode into the conference room with a grim expression darkening his mood but none of that showed on his face. He just finished reading the report sent in on the latest attack by a new alien species on one of their remote mining planets. Everyone was dead and the planet strip of most of its resources. The last message received from the mining colony was two weeks before. Some imbecile captain on the remote station of Atphlon didn't think it important enough to investigate the emergency signals being sent out until two days before. That captain was now washing floors on Atphlon as a private. Kordon didn't tolerate idiots under his command. He didn't bother to nod to the other officers standing around the table waiting for him to sit first. He moved to the chair at the head of the conference table and sat pulling the data grid closer and pulling up the information the frigate sent to the sight looking for survivors had reported. He already knew every detail in the report, now he wanted answers.

"What have you to report?" Kordon looked at his head of security.

Chief Bran Markus cleared his throat before answering calmly. “Two hundred and fifty-eight colonists dead or missing, any resource worth having gone, the colony destroyed. Source appears to be the same as before. We were able to get a brief glimpse of some of the attackers and one of their vehicles before communications was terminated.” Bran nodded to a center screen displaying the mining foreman as he sent the distress signal.

“We are under attack by an unknown force. They…they have captured most of the men as they came out of the mines. All women and children have been killed.” The man wiped his face as sweat dripped down it. “Those bastards have some type of shield we can’t get through. We need immediate assistance.” A loud explosion could be heard in the background. “The….they’ve breached the complex headquarters. Th…” The transmission ended as screams filled the air.

Captain Leila Toolas, his chief medical officer responded. “From the details I’ve been able to retrieve from the bodies left whoever was there killed any female not able to reproduce and young children immediately. From the list there were fifteen females within a breeding range unaccounted for. The men…” Captain Toolas paled as she continued. “The remains of the men show body parts missing. Limbs and internal organs were removed with surgical precision.”

Kordon kept his expression blank as he took each report. He finally came to his communications officer, a Ta’nee. The Ta’nee were known for their language and communication skills. The rich red hair down the center of Lieutenant Mohan’s flared with different colors as she spoke.

“I have never encountered the language or signals recorded by the mining foreman. It was very perceptive of him to record the communications being transmitted. It will take time to decipher it as there is no known base to compare it to.” Mohan said softly. The fur along her cheeks changing to a slightly darker color as all eyes turned towards her.

Kordon nodded ignoring the changes. He knew the Ta’nee were very shy and did not like being the center of attention.
He looked at each member intently so they would understand what he was about to say, though, having worked with all of them except for Mohan who he brought on board almost a year ago for over the past twenty years, he knew it was not necessary.

“I want answers. Find out if there are any signature marks from their ship. I want to know every ripple in space that has occurred in that region within the past month. Mohan, monitor all frequencies. Let me know if you hear anything out the ordinary. Toolas, get me a detailed report of the bodies. I want to know exactly what you know and what you think in the report. Bran, get me a report on the types of weapons that could have been used to cause that amount of destruction. I also want information on what types of shields they could have used. Report back in four hours.”

Everyone stood immediately as Kordon stood and strode back out of the conference room. He walked over to the commander’s chair on the bridge and gave the order to the helmsmen to proceed to the miner’s colony. He wanted to look at the destruction first hand.

Three years
after crash landing

Gracie moved quietly stalking her prey. It was a small creature not much bigger than a squirrel. She didn’t know the names of any of the creatures on the moon she had crashed on – in truth, she didn’t care…at least not at first.

Gracie woke up three years ago to alarms sounding and a terrible headache. She finally managed to shut off the alarms resounding through the supply ship. She was amazed she was still alive. When the computer indicated the supply ship had crashed on the surface of an unknown moon it took Gracie a minute to realize something strange besides
not
being dead had occurred. It didn’t matter how hard she tried, the response from the computer system came up the same – unknown. Gracie shut everything down except life support even though the system verified the atmosphere was suitable for her life form.

A week after she landed she was finally so sick of being confined to the small supply ship she would have fought a bear to get out of it. Her first step on an alien world should have been filled with trepidation but Gracie was beyond that. She was alone. She no longer feared death but welcomed the possibility. She knew she was grieving the loss of Chance. It took almost six months for her to finally talk herself into forcing herself to move forward. She began stretching out of her comfort zone. The first six months she stayed close to the supply ship. She focused on finding enough food to supplement the MREs Crocker had stowed aboard the ship. It was strange but it was almost like he expected her to need them. Gracie didn’t need much. She had gotten used to living on very little during the years they lived in the subway system.

As the months turned to years, she learned to hunt, gather and forage for most of her food supply. She often wondered if this was what early humans must have done and felt when they fought for survival. The moon had a few predators but Gracie learned to avoid them. For the most part, there were primarily just small mammal type creatures like the one she was hunting now. She made sure to only seek them out a couple of times of month so she would not reduce the population, although they seem to be pretty prevalent.

Gracie aimed the bow she made and let it fly. It had taken her over a year to get any good with one. Gracie grimaced as she approached the dead creature. She still got queasy when it came time to kill and clean them though. It was only because she had no other choice that she did it. It was that or starve to death which she came very close to doing.

Gracie swung the bow over her shoulder and walked over to pick up the dead ‘squirrel’. She would have protein tonight. Working her way back to the supply ship, she marveled at how fast the plants on the moon grew. In the three years she had been on it, there was never really a ‘winter’. The coldest it seemed to get was in the thirties if she had to guess. Not
near as cold as a New York winter,
Gracie thought before she could stop herself. She fought against the wave of sadness that flooded her.
This is why you
shouldn’t think about it.
She scolded herself.

Gracie quickly pulled some of the vines that threatened to cover the platform door away before she walked down to a nearby stream. The water was good as long as she boiled it first for at least five minutes. She quickly and efficiently cleaned her supper and set it to cooking in a large container she used as a pot over the open coals of the fire she kept
burning. Laser guns were good for starting fires she discovered after severa
l failed attempts to do it the G
irl
S
cout way and a fit of temper.

Several hours and one full stomach
later, Gracie turned the supply ship power on. She did a systems check at least twice a month to make sure the fuel cells were not leaking and to check for any communications in the area. She felt comfortable the moon was uninhabited except for her and the few creatures she saw. In three years, not a single space ship or communication had been seen or heard. She figured she must have traveled at least fifty miles in a circle and there was also no sign of additional life.

Turning on the power, Gracie set a random pattern for the computer to scan for any type of signal. She leaned back and carefully pulled the last picture of her with the guys out of the protective sleeve she kept it in. Gracie smiled softly and gently touched the tip of her finger to Chance’s cheek. She wondered if they were all okay. She liked to dream Chance had found her parents and sister and moved on. Perhaps, the Earth was now free and Chance had married someone else. He could have a child by now…one that looked like him. She imagined sitting with the guys, her and Chance’s son or daughter on her lap, while the other guys cooked barbeque and drank beer. She remembered her parents having friends over and her and her sister playing with the other kids. Gracie was so focused on her daydream it took a moment for the sounds coming through the communication's systems to register.

Gracie sat up straight in shock as the voices came over the system
again
. She didn’t understand them but she might be able to figure it out eventually. It sounded just like the chatter she used to listen to between the ham-radio operators. Her fingers trembled as she set the computer to record. Gracie listened to the traffic for almost an hour before she made a decision. She could hear the different cadence and even laughter. Laughter was good, she kept telling herself. Looking around the small supply ship she figured she had two choices – die alone on this small moon or try to find a way off it and back home. Either way, she would eventually end up dead.

Pushing the transmission button before she could talk herself out of it, Gracie leaned forward and began talking softly, hesitantly at first. “This is Gracie’s Touch reaching out to anyone who can hear this. I am currently stranded on an unknown planet or moon. If you can understand this, please respond. I repeat…this is Gracie reaching out to touch any friendly ship who could offer assistance. If you receive this message and can respond I need assistance.” Gracie repeated over and over before she felt she needed to power down for a while. The solar cells could power the supply ship systems for a short period and she wanted to conserve the power as much as possible. She would listen and try again tomorrow once the sun was up.

“This is Gracie’s Touch saying goodnight.” Gracie said before she shut down the system.

Gracie’s heart was pounding as she realized she had either done the smartest thing she would ever do or the dumbest. Only time would tell. Looking out through the front view screen at the dark forests slowly devouring her little home, she knew there was no going back.

“Sir.” Mohan said softly as she approached Kordon.

She forced herself not to twist her soft fur-covered hands together as she waited for him to acknowledge her presence. She fought back her reservations about approaching him with the information she had but he ordered any unusual communications be reported to him immediately. That was the only reason she broke protocol and made her way down to the engineering room. Mohan flushed as another male crewman gave her an appraising look. The Ta’nee was known to be a very sensual creature. Mohan was only half Ta’nee, though. Her father was a human male from a distant planet called Earth. Her mother and father met when he was doing research on the Ta’nee at their invitation. Her mother, one of the younger daughters of the chief, met and fell in love with him. Their union was a good one producing many offspring. Most of her sisters and brothers preferred to remain on Ta’NeeWak but Mohan wanted to explore more after learning about her father’s history and the history of his world.

That information was what gave her the reservations she was having about approaching the admiral. Her father taught her the old language of his planet. Earth Standard was based on many of the words but the message she listened to earlier was from the old ancient language no longer taught except to those who studied Earth’s history. She did not know anyone else who spoke it except her father and her.

Kordon finished listening to his chief engineer before turning to Mohan. He knew she would never have ventured down to engineering if she could have avoided it. He let his gaze flicker over her. No one, including Mohan, would know what he was thinking. His face remained carved in a blank mask. He learned long ago not to reveal his emotions or thoughts to anyone unless he wanted them to think they knew what he was thinking. It was a good way to end up dead.