Episode Eight: Shields on Full
Marius makes its final approach to Io and they encounter the invading aliens for the first time.
Space Cruiser USS Marius, CS-1
The Environs of Jupiter and Io
May 2056
The last week had been a rush of activity preparing for our final approach to Io. Lexi and I had been working on tactical communications, enabling the captain and the bridge officers to convey actions, coordinates, and plans to the Jupiterians.
For their part, the Jupiterians, specifically, the entity known as Shield Officer, had learned to modulate the shield and change its location, intensity, and shape—turning it from just a shield into a weapon. The captain felt that we’d developed a reasonably practical defense. With no way to test our methods, we’d need to be flexible if or when we engaged the invaders.
I was on the bridge working with the tactical officer as the Marius headed for its orbit at the Jupiter-Io L2 Lagrange point, which Space Force calculated would keep the moon between the ship and the invaders below and protect the ship. The tech team had deployed a constellation of mini-sats around Io so we could stay in constant contact with the Jupiterians and observe the surface as Io orbited Jupiter about every two days.
We were approximately one hundred thousand kilometers from our orbit when a sudden flash of reddish-purple plasma burst from the planet below—heading straight for us.
The captain hit the red alert contact. The klaxon wailed through the ship. “Shields up. Evasive action. Full ahead.”
I grabbed a handhold when the ship surged forward. As the plasma wave headed towards the ship, a bright blue arrow of high-energy particles shot out from Jupiter, intercepting, and absorbing the initial plasma burst.
We waited. The ship continued to hurtle forward, racing for Io.
A second burst of red raced from the planet directly in our path.
Again, a blue spike fired from Jupiter and absorbed the red plasma.
The captain tightened his seat belt. “Hang on, everyone. Pilot, reverse thrust, get us behind Io—best speed.”
Weird that the only sounds were the captain’s orders, the low hum of the power plant, and squeaks and groans of the ship. You’d expect that with the massive energy discharges outside the view ports, there should be a cacophony of violent noises—but it was strangely calm.
The pilot’s fingers flew across his console, setting up the burn. Suddenly, he grabbed the control yolk, pulled back, and twisted to the right.
The Marius braked in space. Our restraints and hand grips kept us from flying into the forward view ports. The ship groaned, loose articles flew across the bridge—and the Marius slid in behind Io, ten thousand kilometers above the moon’s sulfurous, volcanic surface. The moon loomed, filling the view through the ports with a maelstrom of eruptions and roiling, brownish-yellow clouds.
As we sped behind Io, a last shot of red passed in the distance to our rear, grazing the cloud-tops and igniting pockets of gas in a chain of massive explosions.