Anthony DeCosmo - Parallels

After the landing gear touched ground, the rotor slowed and the rear door opened.

"C’mon, it’s time for you to meet our Trevor Stone."

Sweat formed in the palm of his hands. He felt a shiver in his backbone.

Nina led Trevor, Johnny, and a squad of soldiers from the Skipper but this time Trevor judged the soldiers' behavior to be less that of guards and more escorts for a VIP. Still, they huddled around to hide Trevor in the midst of their group. He figured they did not want him to be seen. Two Trevor Stones walking around might be too much to handle.

They moved through a set of turnstiles guarded by artillery and an armored vehicle. Their path then opened up at a wide courtyard but Trevor did not see another soul.

"Come here, I want to show you something."

Nina led them toward the center of the square. As they walked, a horde of scrawny pigeons fluttered away. As the flock flew off, Trevor saw something standing at the center of the courtyard draped in shadows cast by the skyscrapers around the perimeter of the yard.

Sounds of distant activity drifted through the air: a bell ringing, the rumble of an engine, a voice barking orders; the wind whispering between buildings.

"My Lord," Johnny gasped as he viewed what stood at the center of the courtyard.

Trevor pushed out from the middle of the gang and approached the object that was the focus of the park. A statue of a man. A bronze statue atop a white granite pedestal. A man holding a sword and raising it in anger toward the sky.

Trevor saw his eyes, his hair, his face cast in bronze.

In Memory of Our Beloved Emperor

Trevor Stone

General Casey Fink led a squad of soldiers out from a garage and across a short parking lot past useless gas pumps. Balls of lethal plasma shot over and around them until they found cover in a drainage ditch alongside the road.

Casey dared a look from his position; a position that changed drastically in recent days.

Last weekend he stood-in for Hoth at an Imperial military meeting rubbing elbows with the bigwigs. Now he hid in a ditch outside some roadside town in central Ohio that seemingly consisted of a garage, a John Deere dealership, and a church.

A ball of energy exploded on the slush and snow covered road a few yards in front of Casey’s peeking eyes. He ducked, avoiding a spray of icy goo and blasted black top.

The squad returned fire toward the entrenched Plats. Rifle and carbine rounds smashed dealership windows and strafed the white wooden walls of the Presbyterian house of worship.

Casey patted the shoulder of Captain Marty Blue. The former school teacher turned around allowing the General access to his backpack of bulky communications equipment.

"Big Momma this is Gopher, do you copy? Over."

Fink heard the reply he hoped for: "This is Big Bad Momma, we deliver."

"Shit, yeah, I need a delivery, Momma. Stand by…"

Fink consulted a hand held map of the patrol area; the area he had the brilliant urge to visit for himself; the area supposedly free of Plats and therefore a great route for pushing west.

"Momma, I’m looking at grid reference fifty-two by fifty-five, over."

An enemy bolt slammed into a black soldier, opening a hole in his shoulder and causing his arm to dangle like a broken tree branch. The squad's medic tended to the grievous wound with bandages and twine from his poorly-stocked first aid kit.

Gunfire, screams, and finally a radio transmission filled Casey's ear: "Gopher, I copy your point of interest. How about we serve up some of Momma’s home cooking, over."

"Hard copy that shit, Momma. We’re starving here, over."

"Roger that, Gopher, stand by and get somewhere snug 'cause dinner is served."

Fink shouted to his troops, "Danger close!"

Moments later, waves of rockets descended through a low layer of morning clouds and slammed into grid reference 52–55, also known as the John Deere dealership and the church. A wave of heat swept over the frigid battleground as the target buildings disintegrated into shards of plaster and wood, balls of flame, and mushroom clouds of smoke.

Amidst the ear-splitting explosions and sounds of destruction Casey heard the sweet melody of Platypus aliens squealing like wounded pigs.

"Gopher, this is Momma. You guys still hungry down there? Over?"

The barrage halted. Fink assessed the results. One church wall stood, the rest smoldered in a sort of funeral pyre. He saw a burning, three-legged duck-billed Platypus alien wobble out and collapse. Its flesh roasted with a smell like burnt Thanksgiving dinner.

"Negative, Momma, we’re full. Them’s good eats. Over and out."

Casey led the squad from the ditch. With this outpost destroyed, he had cleared a path for the hastily organized attack Hoth ordered. And while he liked the idea of Army Group North moving again, he could not understand why the brass suddenly seemed in such a hurry.

– Nina Forest spent twenty-four hours under watch after having been a prisoner of, well, of herself. Certainly Oliver Maddock could find a Freud joke in there, but he and the rest of the team knew better than to make jokes. Not after how badly they screwed up.

In hindsight, she questioned every decision from accepting the mysterious invitation to splitting up at the farm. Most of all, she questioned obeying Trevor's orders to leave him behind.

At least a hundred times she went into battle willing to die for him; for what he represented to humanity. Why did she not charge those guards, even if it meant death? If Trevor died at the hands of those strangers-of a duplicate Nina-she would never forgive herself.

And that raised another issue. One that added to her guilt but also generated more questions. Exactly why had she-Captain Forest-been a successful lure for the Emperor?

The other Nina-the one who claimed to come from a 'parallel' Earth-showed the most emotion when Captain Forest of the Dark Wolves assured that she barely knew Trevor Stone and they had never engaged in any sort of relationship.

Yes, that had elicited a response, Nina remembered.

Nina with twin ponytails had refused to accept the truth, then deteriorated into panic then, later, relief when Stone actually showed.

She chewed on that thought as she walked across the encampment on yet another relentlessly cold January day in Ohio.

Nina paused as an ambulance drove by transporting wounded from the front lines to the camp's infirmary. Apparently the battle to push west raged and it bothered her that General Hoth would not allow the Wolves to participate.

Nina arrived at the mess tent, opened the door, and went inside.

One good thing about all this, Nina realized; those weird dreams have stopped.

Before she could contemplate any connection between the dreams and the ordeal, a new set of thoughts and emotions overwhelmed the Captain. In a corner sat a lonely thirteen year old girl dressed in a heavy coat and drinking a mug of hot chocolate.

Nina stopped in her tracks and eyed her daughter. Her family.

Denise then caught sight of her mother and a smile grabbed control of her face. A big, genuine smile that nearly warmed the countryside. Then the thirteen-year-old attitude managed to stifle the grin and she nonchalantly returned her attention to the mug of hot drink as if ho-hum just another day.

Nina strolled over and sat at the table, saying, "I heard you were in camp. Sorry, they wouldn't let me out of isolation until now. Standard procedure."

"Yeah, well, you know, it’s no big deal."

"Skipping school again?"

Denise did not answer.

"I’ll let you get away with it this time," mom smiled as she placed an arm on the girl’s shoulder. "Because I’m glad to see you."