The Jovian Conflict

Chapter 9

The Jovian Conflict

Movement

The snorts and snores from Romeo were annoying. Like an itch on that part of your back you can't quite reach. Riedel heaved a sigh. Everyone in that cramped vehicle had somehow managed to drift off, but he was awake. Shelton had adjusted the radio to pick up the only station allowed in space. All Riedel could hear was the occasional ZLI and JOPA news in between movements from Dvork's New World Symphony. Why did classical music have to be associated with space? Not that he minded it just was…

His mind was bouncing around again. It had always done that. Doctors of medicine and psychiatry had tried to give him medication and counseling – anything to quell the unusual surge of noise inside his head. Nothing worked. High stress situations only made it worse. It was impossible to focus. Yet somehow he had succeeded. No matter the obstacles the universe tried to place in his way, he conquered them.

"… among those presumed dead is Doctor Kit Riedel. Sometimes referred to as 'Doctor Jupiter' by his colleges, Doctor Riedel made his name from the Jovian project that helped…"

How was he supposed to conqueror this? A giant iceberg in space. They had no supplies. Time was limited. Distance was huge. Before they ran out of oxygen, they'd run out of places to poop. Had anyone besides him taken the time to think about that? The diapers were a one-time use and they had enough for each person to take three shits. Only three.

"… his wife and two children, ages six and four, wait patiently on any news…"

A man of the Earth, he had stumbled into space. It wasn't a plan, just an accident of fate. Riedel wasn't driven like everyone around him. Things happened naturally, that was it. In fact, he had planned on avoiding any ship work if possible. It was too dangerous. JOPA HQ was a safe spaceport to live and raise a family while still keeping his job. Ashley had convinced him otherwise. She had begged him to take just two trips on her ship; they needed one more scientist to wrap up a few missions so she could retire. He agreed, but why?

Finally, he mind was focused. All he could see was the smiling faces of his family, waiting for him back home. He was going to make it. Regardless of whatever teasing Romeo gave them over his past relationship with Ashley (and how it sometimes surfaced during their missions), Riedel loved his family. Every decision he had made was done with them in mind. Always, since the moment he met his wife, she gave his mind direction. Once his children were born, they also helped settle his wild thoughts. Of course they would be his beacon in this dark time.

Brreeep! "Incoming transmission!" Brreeep! "Incoming transmission!"

"Jesus!"

"The f**k is that?!"

The resting trio rocketed to life at the sound of the screeching computer voice. Everyone hurried to secure their helmets and make sure they were airtight. There was no telling what or who could be trying to contact them. If JOC Patrol was nearing their position, they had to be ready for both fight and flight. Sore from their previous injuries and stiff from their lack of movement, it took them a bit longer than they had wanted to be suited up.

Romeo clicked his helmet on at just the last possible second. The vehicle had its emergency hatch blown off. The ice cold atmosphere of Callisto invaded their warm, comfortable cabin. The ray gun that Romeo had stolen from the JOC Patrol was raised and ready to fire. The intruders weren't going to get away.

"Whoa, whoa! Hold on! I'm sorry! I thought you guys were stranded!"

A young man, barely old enough to drive, was waving his hands around in a mad panic. Fortunately, Romeo didn't fire immediately. The gun stayed pointed at the newcomer. An inspection of the insignia on the boy's suit revealed his post and position. Nothing more than a mere miner, bottom of the barrel in terms of rank. The Callisto patch on his forearm still made him an enemy, even if he was just a laborer.

Ashley pushed Romeo's hand down. The pistol was lowered. Still frightened, the boy didn't let his arms rest just yet. He wasn't sure whether he should stay put or just spin around and run. Underneath the icy cavern, they couldn't get a view of the outside world. That meant there was no way to tell if he was alone or had JOC Patrol right around the corner.

"Well, we're stranded now. We'll run out of oxygen in the next six hours," Shelton said, breaking the silence that had entered. The problem with the emergency hatches? Impossible to repair. A design flaw he was kicking himself over now.

"I can give you guys a lift back to JOC. We're just headed that way. But another convoy won't hit the area in near twenty hours," the stranger said.

Negotiation time. Ashley read his nametag when she spoke. "Listen, Ronson. How big is your team?"

He swallowed. He was being interrogated by a woman wearing a JOC Patrol spacesuit. No one lied to them. Maybe she already knew the answer and this was just a test of his honesty. It took him a beat to answer, partially due to fear and hesitation, but also because his mind went blank and he forgot how to count.

"Ju-just… Just three of us, ma'am."

"Three teams or three people?"

He titled his head, confused. Something about the tone in her question sounded truly concerned. Lightly, one of his hands touched the side of his helmet. The display on his visor that showed his oxygen levels and vital signs switched as the front camera did a scan. Who were these people?

Regardless, he answered honestly, "Three people, of course. Just the transport and crew chief."

Vreewp. Vreewp. The alarm inside Ronson's helmet berated on his ears. Holy s**t, he thought as he read the warnings on Ashley Braun's profile. The red frame around the bulletin signaled she was a wanted woman. The JOC Patrol considered her armed and dangerous. Six were dead because of her. Millions of dollars' worth of JOC Patrol equipment had been stolen. The bounty on her was more than a dozen miners would make in three lifetimes. Alive. She had to be brought back alive.

The sudden shift in Ronson's posture was obvious. It put Shelton and Romeo on edge. Unfortunately for Ronson, his senses were so overloaded with a mix of fear and excitement that he wasn't pay attention to the smaller details. Romeo's grip tightened on the ray pistol; Ashley was no longer restraining him. All he needed was the right moment…

"We need you to take us away from JOC. Can you do that for us?" Ashley requested. Everyone was surprised by her. Ronson managed to sort through his jumbled feelings and nodded his head. That would have to do for an answer. Back in Captain mode, she barked orders, "Romeo, Shelton, grab any supplies that may still be usable. We'll need the extra oxygen tanks and medical supplies. Grab as many weapons as you can carry."

"I'll… I'll go inform my crew," Ronson said as he carefully backed away.

Ashley was quick to snag him. With her fingers around his forearm she kept him in place. Once on her feet and out of the vehicle, she smiled and said, "I'll come with you."

He was shaking. It didn't take long for her to realize he was scared to death of her. The grip she had on his forearm was never steady after that. It wavered between iron-strong and motherly. There was a compassionate side of her that didn't want to ever drag this innocent boy into their struggle. Survival was more important, however. Although a voice in the back of her mind reminded her regularly that this boy had a mother back home, a family and friends that waited for him, her desire to live pushed her forward.

If he made the wrong move, he was dead. If his fellow miners tried to radio for help, they were dead. She was going to convince them to turn the convoy around and head far, far away from JOC. Returning to that outpost surely would result in their capture.

The large truck that carried the little payload and the crew chief's separate truck were parked quite a few meters from the ice cavern. At the sight of Ronson approaching with a newcomer, the crew chief left their vehicle and decided to meet them halfway. Ashley could see the chief flipping through the options on their visor. Without a doubt, they were going to run a report.

A hole appeared on the chief's faceplate. The body fell backwards and awkwardly bounced in the light gravity. Ronson jumped, officially needing to change his pants after that. Ashley glanced over his shoulder to find the origin of the death ray. Romeo was just lowering the pistol as Riedel and Shelton were all hauling as much equipment as they could hold.

Shocked Riedel nearly dropped his goods. "What the heck?! What was that?! Is that a ray gun? How? How is that possible?! Holy s**t, you just killed someone!" he screamed at Romeo. It was now very obvious that the hospital incident was nowhere to be found in Riedel's memory banks.

"Shut the hell up, Doctor! We've got to survive, and screaming over a faceless no one isn't helping us out!" Romeo yelled back. He hurried past the dead without giving it a second glance. Shelton did the same. Riedel slowed as he approached and couldn't help but rubberneck as he walked right on top of it, nearly tripping.

Romeo reached the door of the truck and ripped it open. Revealed to him was the last of the team, frightened to the point of shock. There was no reason to harm them. He offered a free hand and said, "Come with us." His voice had a venomous tone, but he did his best to lather it in warmth. The mixed result meant it took a few frightening seconds for the miner to move.

With the other "hostage" now in his possession, Romeo huffed it to the chief's vehicle. Riedel, Ashley, and Ronson had already piled inside. Shelton waited patiently for his boss to return. After he shoved the second miner into the truck, he slammed the door shut. Alone with Romeo, he touched their helmets together.

"What's the plan, Sarge?" Shelton asked.

He watched Romeo's entire face twitch, a rare sign of weakness. "Survive," was his answer.

"How?"

"We're engineers, kid. We'll figure it out. Let's just hope your pal up top is making some progress. And pray that the brickhat and his JOC lackeys aren't good bloodhounds."

"What good will these miners do?"

Romeo pulled away. He wasn't going to answer. It irritated Shelton and Romeo could tell, but that was a discussion everyone needed to hear. Taking the driver's seat, he waited for Shelton to occupy the front passenger seat. Once everyone was in and the airlock was secure, Romeo removed his helmet. Shelton followed.

Romeo spoke, "We need to find out what's happening. Riedel and Braun aren't the only space doctors out there. More people could have their lives at risk. Insider information is helpful."

Riedel poked his head in between the two seats and asked, "What about me and Ashley?"

He was ignored. Shelton questioned, "Who cares? You just shot and killed someone, for f**k's sake. What difference does it make? We should be our priority. Just us!" He was thumping his chest for emphasis. Romeo could only see the gesture out of the corner of his eye, but the sound was clear enough.

Romeo closed his eyes before he answered. "Because I don't know that crew chief. But I know Kit and Ashley. So when I think about what that brickhat squirrel Simon said, I think about how what we're doing now is just as much about protecting ourselves as it is about protecting them. Besides, I don't know about you, but I am fuckin' pissed off that our entire family was murdered by those cocksucking wannabe soldiers from JOC Patrol."

To that, Shelton nodded. They hadn't had the time to think much about the dead they left onboard the Interceptor. Even as their faces appeared before Shelton in memories, he hadn't quite accepted nor felt their deaths. A lot had happened in his life, but being shot down, stranded, and hunted? If he survived, it would definitely top the list of "Most Badass Moments." Was there any way to make it worthwhile, other than continuing his life?

Even if they did survive, what "life" was left for him? He was getting old, well into his thirties. He'd explored as far as humanity had touched. The beauty of the Earth, the curiosity of space, the warmth of human touch, the cold hands of death… he'd experienced everything. Before, the day-to-day living had gotten routine, so much to where the thought of anything else had ceased to exist. Now that he had the chance to reflect on his future, he realized there was nothing more to be had.

Fate wasn't something he believed in. He was the master of his own life and the course it had taken. That thought comforted him whenever he was faced with dangerous conditions or emotional events. He could always escape the moment, the situation, the environment - whatever it was that was unpleasant or treacherous, there was always a way out. If fate was in charge, he would have resigned himself to it long ago.

Yet here he was: A survivor. Everyone else was dead. People just as capable as him, some with more experience, more gusto, and more of a reason to live had all perished. There had to be a reason. He had to make it up to them. For all of the life that had been lost, for all the precious moments yet to be lived, stolen away…

"You're right, Sarge," he finally said, his voice returned with more determination. Romeo smiled at him. It was evident Romeo had went through the same thought process. Get the Doctors to safety was their first priority. Going out with a blaze of glory was their second.