The Legend of Earth

“Sorry to bother you Admiral, but I believe you’re going to want to see this.”

Without asking, Caleb went to the computer terminal on the admiral’s desk and logged into his radioman’s secure screen. Allen moved to the desk and sat down in the chair, as Caleb finished pulling up the audio file. He clicked play and then stood back.

“Team Leader to Commander SEAL Team Six. Team Leader to Commander SEAL Team Six. This is A.C., please respond on this frequency. Urgent, I repeat urgent message to follow. Please respond ST6 Commander.”

Allen’s heart began to pound in his throat. He was commander SEAL Team Six, or at least he had been when Adam Cain had been there, and the AC in the message had to be Cain. Allen looked up at the petty officer standing next to him. Cobb smiled. “I thought you’d want to hear this right away, sir.”

Everybody in the fleet knew Nate Allen’s story: former head of the Navy’s most elite Special Forces SEAL team, then head of the United States Special Operations Command (SOCOM) at MacDill Air Force Base, and now the Supreme Military Commander, Human Expeditionary Force, Galactic Operations, his current command.

And everyone onboard also knew the name of Adam Cain.

“Can you isolate the frequency?” Admiral Allen asked.

“It’s being broadcast on multiple frequencies, but I can pull out the strongest one for your response.”

“How about direction? Have you determined that yet?”

“It’s definitely coming in front of us, sir, in the direction of Juir.”

“What’s he doing way out here?” Allen asked rhetorically. The last anyone had heard of Adam Cain had been four, maybe five months ago. His small insurgent command in the Fringe had reported that Cain had been operating behind enemy lines at the time, as had Allen’s former adjutant, Lieutenant Andy Tobias. The Chief had been there too, along with Johnny Tindal. Nothing had been heard from any of them for all this time. And now this.

“Cobb, I have no doubt this message came from Cain. Have Commander Arseneault muster all the techs you have in CIC in ten minutes. We’ll craft a response and then wait for a reply. We have no idea of the distance at this time, do we?”

“No sir, not until the first response has time to come back. He may be fifteen minutes away or ten hours, we just don’t know.”

“And we won’t until we respond. Get moving, Cobb — and good work, young man!”

“Thank you, sir.”

Word of the message had traveled quickly throughout the CIC. Admiral David Giddens had also joined Allen in the CIC, along with Captain Brandon Holmes, the commander of the Bunker Hill.

Caleb Cobb was not intimidated by all the brass leaning over his shoulder at the comm station; it was common for his rating. However, he wished only one person would talk at a time.

Finally Admiral Allen took charge. He sat down next to Caleb and nodded. Caleb flicked the recording switch.

“Commander SEAL Team Six to AC. Commander SEAL Team Six, to AC, message received. Allen here. We have locked onto your strongest signal and are awaiting contact for urgent message. Once locked, line should be secure. Will monitor this frequency continuously. Proceed at your earliest. Allen out.”

The message was short and a little anticlimactic for those in the CIC. But it was done; all they could do now was wait.

Since the message had come from the direction of Juir, that would logically mean Cain was located somewhere between the planet and the Fleet. Caleb knew a signal could get to Juir and back in two hours forty- five minutes, since they knew the distance to the planet. So if Cain was on this side of Juir that would be the maximum amount of time they would have to wait for a reply — if Cain is able to pick up their outgoing message without any interference. Once Cain’s reply came back, they could then gauge the time needed between message and response down to within a few minutes. Then, depending on how fast both parties were closing on one another, that time would shorten with each passing day. It would be an awkward way of carrying on a conversation, but it was what they had been dealing with for almost a year, ever since leaving the Earth.

Allen had two cots moved into the CIC and placed near the comm station; one for him and one for Caleb, who insisted on remaining at his station until communications had been fully established with Cain. Coffee was brought in, and even though he was excited about the prospect of making contact with his old team mate — as well as learning about this urgent message Cain had for him — Admiral Nate Allen was soon fast asleep on the cot.

Chapter 27

Kaylor and Jym were the only ones on the bridge, stealing some time for themselves, while the Humans were down on the lower level attempting to sleep. Over the past three days, the two aliens had noticed the steady progression of resignation in the attitudes of their shipmates, along with a growing depression. With each passing hour, they knew their chances of stopping the attack on the Earth grew slimmer. The two aliens tried their best to relate, imagining how they would feel if it were their home planets under attack.

“Yes, it would be horrible, knowing that you have no home to return to,” Jym agreed. “I haven’t been back to Fulqin in over ten standard years, yet I still know I could if I wished.”

“And what will the Expansion be like if these Kracori creatures are able to take control from the Juireans?” Kaylor asked. “We’ve seen what they are like. It’s hard to believe how quickly things have changed.” But then he grinned. “I really enjoyed your comment to Adam about all these changes taking place, and how we probably could have survived with hardly any effect.”

“I see it as truth. We are very far down any galactic hierarchy, so no one would care what we do-” Jym was interrupted by a soft, steady bleeping coming from his console. He twisted around in the seat and investigated the cause.

It was coming from a word-hit, a program he’d set up to scan all the thousands of frequencies Adam’s message had been sent out on, searching for any keywords or phrases that could possibly signal a reply. Adam had provided him with over a hundred Human words and phrase possibilities for his program. It continuously scanned the millions of open messages on these frequencies, looking for a match.

He dialed in the frequency and highlighted the phrase. His eyes grew wide — and then he slapped down on the ship’s intercom system. “Adam, I think we got a hit! Do you hear me? We got a hit!”

Adam couldn’t help but hear Jym’s call; it blared out of every speaker in the ship, jarring him from the hazy edge of sleep he was teetering on. He was fed up with trying to sleep anyway. With the depression he was feeling, what fitful sleep he was able to find was filled with nothing but horrible nightmares bordering on night terrors. All the Humans aboard were suffering from the same malady. Now he could give up the pretense of even trying to sleep.

They may have made contact with the fleet!

Adam thought he had climbed to the bridge in a hurry, yet he found he was actually the next-to-last person to enter. Only Chief Rutledge was slower; he was the oldest person in the crew and had probably been fast asleep.

“What do you have, Jym?” Adam asked as he entered.

“It’s a very strong hit,” Jym replied, his voice bouncing with excitement. “The word is Allen. That’s not your normal alien word — to use something you would say.”

“Bring up the full message. Have you been able to pull it out of all the clutter?”

“The program is just finishing. Here it is….”

“Commander SEAL Team Six to A.C. Commander SEAL Team Six, to A.C. Message received. Allen here. We have locked onto your strongest signal and are awaiting contact for urgent message. Once locked,