CHAPTER ONE
1.
The galactic star cruiser Vehpad streamed through space,
its passage barely causing a ripple in the solar winds. At Omega-speed, the top
speed rating known, the Vehpad could literally travel millions of miles in mere
hours. From Algorita, the seat of the Galactic Council to its nearest neighbor
Gurron, Vehpad made the trip in less than three standard days. Unfortunately on
this particular voyage, the two points were much further apart, and the crew
had already spent an entire week aboard. However, they were being very well
paid.
Captain Janus Millways stood on the bridge,
watching the stars slide by at a blistering rate. The raised platform on which
she stood was three meters off of the deck, a small staircase leading up to it.
The polished steel of the banisters protected her from what would be an
embarrassing tumble. Below her sat the two pilot bots, Agnost-1138 and
Agnost-3771. The Agnost series robots had long taken over the routines of
flying starships, mainly because they never needed rest. And most Captains
found that since the very energy they need to survive came from the ships
themselves, the robots did a much better job evading threats than any Terran
could. Millways took a moment to appreciate the speed in which the beings went
at their task, controlling every aspect of piloting functions, from the yaw and
pitch to the gravity well that kept everyone standing. Nowadays barely anyone
noticed the bots at the helm, it was routine, but Captain Millways always
noticed, having once been a pilot herself, long before the bots had been
created.
Looking out
the view port for another brief second, Captain Janus turned, only to see her
CO coming through the bridge doors. Commanding Officer Barre Kerns was a tough
old man, long past what most Terrans considered retirement age. His short
cropped pure white hair only help to accentuate the miles of wrinkles that
lined his face. As always his uniform was kept pristine, neatly creased and
polished. Although he had earned countless medals in his service with the
Galactic Navy, he only wore one, the Platinum Star. It was given to him after
he had risked his own life to save a dying Officer. He had told Millways that
it was the only one he ever felt that he had truly earned. The Captain had
agreed with his request to postpone retirement only because he was a brilliant
strategist, and a good friend. Kerns saw the Captain notice his arrival and
gave her a brief nod, then came straight towards her. As he approached she
noticed the data card in his hand.
“I take it
you have bad news,” The Captain spoke as he walked. “Otherwise you could have
streamed the data here directly.”
Kerns
smiled. “I never knew a Captain as perceptive as you. I used to have to
baby-sit my way around.”
“Thank you.”
She held out her hand. “Let me see it.”
Captain
Millways stood still, staring at the data pad for several minutes, her face
slowly moving from calm to worried. Finally she handed the pad back.
“How
accurate is this information?” She asked her first officer.
“The
reporting ship was destroyed mere seconds after its initial transmission
Captain. No survivors.”
“Zayas.” She
spat, the distaste evident in her tone. “But how could he have known what we
are transporting? I didn’t even know until we were well under way.”
Kerns
smiled, a hint of respect in his look. “Warlord Zayas has many spies in the
Galactic Council, Captain. He may even have known of the mission before the
President.”
Millways sighed.
She turned to the pilots. “Agnost 1138, go to full Tactical Alert. All
personnel to immediately report for duty. No drill.”
As soon as
the order was finished the klaxons aboard began ringing. The normal ambient
light changed hues to a dark red. A soft male voice spoke through the speakers.
“Tactical
Alert. All hands report to duty. This is not a drill.”
The message
would repeat itself in thirty-second intervals for two minutes. Anyone not at
their assigned duty stations after the last warning would have no excuses for
having missed the call. When it came to the dangers of space travel, everyone
took it seriously.
Captain
Millways turned back to Kerns. “Where is the Blood Crystal now?”
Kerns didn’t
even have to check. “It is on Deck 17. In a secure compartment.”
Janus
thought for a moment. Her priority was to protect the lives of everyone on the
ship, but as dictated by the President himself, her main task was the
safekeeping of the Blood Crystal. Nothing, no one transcended that task. Not even
herself.
“Dispatch a
security detail. Have the crystal brought to the bridge immediately.”
“Captain?”
Kerns asked politely.
“If Zayas
wants the damn thing, he’s going to have to pry it from my dead hands.”
2.
It sat in space, stationary like a wart on existence. The
battle cruiser was Rygarian, full of weapons and other tools of death. When the
Rygarians set out to designing their machines of war, they made sure to make
the ships look like death incarnate. The large spherical ships had many points
and spikes thrusting away from it at unkempt angles, as if gigantic thorns had
ravaged them. The metal hull was colored the shade of rust, giving it the
appearance of dried blood. On it’s posterior a large bay stood open, hundreds
of Rygarian Needlers made ready for launch. Like their mother ship, the
Needlers were created for war, but these had a specific purpose. Their long
slender bodies were made to penetrate deep into enemy ships, so that boarding
parties could gain quick access. The Rygarians believed in the taking of enemy
ships rather than their destruction. It should be noted however, that for all
their skills at making war the Rygarians had been extinct for nearly three
hundred years, a result of a small bacterium. It should be further noted that
if the Rygarians hadn’t been so quick to war, that same bacterium could have
been cured by dozens of “enemy” races.
Its current
owner, the Warlord Zayas, had named this particular Rygarian battle cruiser the
Venture. He had acquired the Venture and four other Rygarian cruisers after a
violent war with one of his adversaries. Warlord Zayas was renowned the galaxy
wide as a collector of morbid objects, his most prime example was the mummified
corpse of a man known only as “The Chosen One”, who had died many millennia
before. Of course being the most feared man in any galaxy, Zayas had to keep
appearances up. The Blood Crystal, however, was meant for something else
entirely.
At the helm
of the Venture sat one lone man, long since confined to his particular chair by
the man he served. Kaim Ocknolt had once displeased Zayas, the actual reason
now lost to both men, so Zayas had Kaim’s appendages removed and his brain
slaved into the computer of the Venture. So in effect the ship was the man, and
the man the ship. It was never said that Zayas didn’t have compassion.
Kaim’s mind
read the data coming in over the scanners. He instantly noticed the large
object approaching at Omega-speed. Before his mouth could even issue the
commands, his mind sent it through the system.
“Vehpad
approaching.” Kaim/Venture spoke. “Configure Spider Cannon. All Assault Teams
are go.”
On the
exterior of the Venture, the deadly spikes suddenly started emitting a bluish
glow as millions of terra-watts of energy started building up. The bay doors
slowly and silently started to open. A giant flash erupted from the ship,
blinding to anything looking directly at it. The Spider Cannon fired.
Ripped out
of Omega-space by the snare of the Spider Cannon, the crew of the Vehpad
immediately took evasive action, twisting the cruiser until the two ships faced
each other. Just as quickly the Vehpad launched a hundred single engine
fighters, all of them flying at their attacker, laser cannons blazing. The
Rygarian Needlers flew out to intercept. In less than a minute the space
surrounding the two ships became a cavalcade of fire and death.
Three
Galactic SEFs flew in tight formation straight through the onslaught towards
the Venture. Commander Kerns himself piloted the lead ship.
“Op 1 and 2,
pull up on me, lets make this a tight run. Target only the reactors. Lets shut
this bitch down!” Kerns ordered, followed by two distinct clicks as his wingmen
responded affirmative.
The SEFs
marched straight, occasionally taking aim at Needlers that got into their line
of fire. Explosions blossomed as ships were destroyed, the fire eating the
oxygen before the vacuum of space obliterated both. Kerns pulled quickly to
stern as a friendly got in his path, his partners matched his move precisely.
He was about to issue a complaint when he saw that pilot obliterated by
Needlers.
“Alright
pilots, we have to get this done, and now.” He said over the radio.
“Commander!”
One of his wing-mates spoke. “Four hostiles inbound. Non-Rygarian in make sir.
I repeat these are not Needlers!”
Kerns look
out his canopy, searching the chaos for a visual. Then he had it. And he swore
to himself. “Carbinotes.”
While the
Needlers were fine for boarding spacecraft, they weren’t especially qualified
dogfighters. The Carbinote Assault Craft on the other hand, were made for
simply that. They weren’t as sleek as the SEFs, but with four wings, two each
on sides and top and bottom, each wing fitted with cutting edge weaponry, the
CACs were not something you took lightly in a combat situation.
“Op 1,”
Kerns shouted, “where the hell did those CACs come from?”
“Probably
from that other Rygarian Battle Cruiser that just arrived sir.” Op 1 said in a
monotone voice.
Kerns
checked his radar display. In addition to the battle cruiser that had forced
them out of Omega-space, three other Rygarian cruisers had just arrived. Each
one now launching their own compliment of Needlers and CACs. Unconsciously
Kerns started rubbing the Platinum Star just under his jumpsuit. This battle
had just gone from barely winnable to a death sentence. There were a fleet of
Galactic Cruisers en route, but it would be hours until they arrived, and no
one in this battle was going to live longer than twenty minutes. Kerns ached;
his place was aboard the Vehpad protecting his Captain, not out here trying to
live one last moment of glory.
Op 1 spoke
into his radar, bringing Kerns back to the battle at hand. “Commander, your
orders sir?”
Kerns closed
his eyes and uttered a silent prayer for Millways. Then he started punching
buttons on the dash. He keyed an open channel. “Looks like we are on a losing
mission pilots. But lets give them hell before we go. All SEFs, target initial
Rygarian Battle Cruiser. Lets take that bastard down!”
3.
There was a slight hum along the hull of the Vehpad,
causing all Galactic Troopers to pause and look around. On the bridge Captain
Janus Millways watched as hundreds of Needlers slammed into the outer hull and
broke through. Within an instant there were shouts from the Agnost bots
informing her of the numerous breaches. The reports were so cluttered that to
her ears they sounded like a constant drone. She felt the Vehpad shutter as air
was released, then was nearly thrown from her feet as one of the drive engines
exploded. Millways took a cool comfort in knowing that whichever Needler had
done that damage was most likely destroyed as well.
Ag 1 turned
its cylindrical head around 180 degrees to face her. “Boarders aboard. 50
intruders. 60 – 80 – 103 – 132 – 17-“
“Understood
1,” Millways spoke calmly, surprising even herself on her tone. “No further
updates needed. Deploy the troops. Repel the intruders.”
The Agnost
turned back to its station, the computer brain already alerting the 500
troopers of their orders. Most of them were already in the thick of battle, not
even hearing the order come over their sub-aural implants.
“Species
Identification complete.” Ag 2 spoke without turning. “Intruders are Skeether.”
Captain
Millways lost control of her legs and collapsed to her knees, holding the iron
railing to keep from falling. 43 standard years earlier the Skeether Armada had
invaded her home world. The nightmarish creatures stood less than two meters
tall, but each had six appendages, and moved as quickly along walls and ceilings
as a Terran ran across open ground. Their faces were a clash of eyes and teeth,
with not much else. Their language sounded like children dying. Janus herself
had witnessed a pack of Skeether commandos rip into her father, who had been
attempting to surrender. Still to this very day she often found herself coming
awake at night, images of the monstrosities left lingering in her mind from her
dreams. Zayas had certainly done his homework, sending the one being she
wouldn’t be able to stand up to.
“Agnost,”
Janus spoke, this time not even close to surprised by the terror in her voice.
“Activate self-destruct sequence. Clearance ADAMA-ONE-ALPHA.”
“Self-Destruct
Sequence Violates Code 11782-A of the Galactic Navy regulations concerning our
current mission Captain.” Ag 1 reminded her.
Millways
launched to her feet, her face contorted in a mixture of fear and rage. “I
don’t give a bloody hell about regulations! Blow the ship now!”
The cool
voice spoke from behind her.
“Now, now.
Is that the proper way for a Captain of the Galactic Navy to address her crew?”
Millways
spun around at the sound of the voice, and instantly tried to retreat into the
railing behind her. The door to the bridge stood open, the space beyond was
pitch black. As she watched, a dozen Skeethers scampered in; attached to the
walls, ceiling and deck. Each being held a pair of powerful Gates blasters in
their free hands. The Skeethers came onto the bridge, and stopped, aiming their
weapons at her knowing the Agnost series robot could do them no harm.
“Or do my
little pets make you nervous?” The man behind the voice came out of the
darkness and onto the bridge. He was an intimidating being; standing head and
shoulder above the average Terran, his entire body rippling with muscle that was
obvious even through his armor-suit. His hair was a flame red, which
accentuated his death yellow skin. He smiled at the captain, and not a single
person watching felt there was anything friendly in the gesture.
“Garrath
Nass.” Millways spat, trying to show some courage. “One of the most wanted
criminals in the galaxy, on my ship. I should feel honored.”
“Captain
Janus Aretha Millways.” Garrath stated. “Now that we properly know each other,
lets say we get down to business. Where is the Blood Crystal?”
“The blood
what? Are you sure you have the right ship?” She commented.
Through the
view-screen the Rygarian Battle Cruiser Venture erupted into a fireball. The
explosion took out a fleet of CACs and sent a ripple through space that made
the Vehpad shudder. Millways turned to watch, feeling a moment of pride for her
Commanding Officer.
“Looks like
your – URK!” Millways started, but then found herself unable to speak as a
freakishly large hand wrapped itself around her throat. Garrath lifted her off the
planks of her observation deck, holding her high in the air. She hadn’t even
felt his approach.
“I will ask
nicely a final time Captain. Where is the crystal?”
“I… .uh…
don’t… know…” She gasped, struggling to even breathe.
Garrath
smiled again, up close Millways could see that each of his teeth had been filed
down to points; he had the mouth of a Horrakian Shark. “I had hoped you would
resist.”
Garrath took
a hold of Millways arm, just above the wrist, and bent it. The snap of her
bones echoed off the metal walls, her breathless scream followed a second
later. Garrath felt the tiny sticks shatter in his hands, relished the frantic
pace her pulse had taken. He bent just a bit more, fully destroying the bones.
“Where is
the Blood Crystal, Janus? Tell me and I’ll make this quick.”
“Wh- what?”
Garrath pulled down on the arm, ripping tendons and dislocating the shoulder.
Shockwaves of pain tore through her body, sending billions of electrons to her
spine and brain. Her entire body began to shake violently, convulsing in the
agony.
“If I pull
just a bit harder, Captain, your arm will come off. And then I would have to
start on the other one. While that does sound a bit fun to me, you may not
enjoy it that much. Of course if you were to tell me what I need to know, this
entire situation may come to a swift conclusion. You leave then I leave.”
“Fu- fu – fu
– fuc –“ Garrath bent his other hand, snapping her neck, killing her instantly.
“My dear
Captain. Such language is unbefitting a lady.” Garrath released his grip, her
body tumbling to the floor. He stood a moment looking at her corpse, then
turned and walked towards the doorway. He stopped to bend over and retrieve a
case that was tucked underneath one of the consoles. Garrath lifted open the lid
and inspected the contents. After a second he dropped the lid closed and
started to move off. One of the Skeethers screamed a question at him.
“Of course I
knew,” Garrath replied. “But you can’t hold me at fault for wanting to play a
bit, can you?”
The monster
in Terran flesh laughed and walked out of the bridge. Behind him the Skeethers
dropped the last of their “packages” and followed after.
4.
Laser fire erupted from the forward gun emplacements on
Commander Kern’s SEF. His two wingmen still flew in a tight formation just to
the rear of either side of his wings; four other SEF fighters had abandoned the
defense of the Vehpad to follow the Commander on one more mission. All seven
ships unleashed a barrage of fire at the few Needlers and CACs surrounding the
Rygarian cruiser Venture. Enemy ships exploded as the Galactic Navy flew
through. Bits of molten metal and irons scraped past on Kerns’ canopy as he
piloted past the dogfight and towards the massive battle cruiser. Just as the
SEFs had cleared the initial wave of defenders, the cruisers batteries opened
up on them, every cannon let loose on the rushing fighters.
A bolt of
red fire shot into the center of the formation, each pilot executing a
masterful barrel roll to avoid the fire. Kerns’ SEF shuddered as one of his
wingmen dodged one blast only to fly right into another. He hit the ships COM
frequency.
“Watch your
fields, pilots! Know what you are doing before you do it! We can’t lose another
ship!” His voice was full of restrained anger. Anger at the loss of a pilot, at
the fact that his ship had come into an ambush, anger at not being able to
protect his captain. Another volley of laser fire came from the Venture, he
slammed the yoke down to the console and the ship plummeted down towards the
outer hull, out of range of the deck cannons. He was relieved to see that his
squadron had the same idea at the same time.
As the SEFs
came to the hull the outer cannons stopped their fire, but a scattering of
blips showed on his ship radar.
“More Needlers
launching,” He spoke to the pilots. “We’ll be long gone before they can get
here. Target the reactors. All pilots free to fire at will.”
Kerns’
Squadron rushed past the gigantic thorn projections, aptly moving in between
each other as they approached the engine section of the ship. A few Needlers
and CACs tried to take pot shots, but most were to far out to even scratch a
fighter with a direct hit. The formation flew past the last of the thorns, and
as one the pilots began concentrating their fire to a large bluish bump on the
Venture’s backside. Three fighters let loose their remaining missiles, a salvo
that raced towards the reactors leaving trails of gray smoke in their
wake. The weapons slammed into the
ship, blowing the cooling gasses of the power plant into space. The rain of
laser fire continued, each hit causing a larger and larger rupture. As Kerns
watched the entire Venture gave a massive shudder as explosions started tearing
away at the inside of the beast. The Commander pulled up on his stick to escape
the death that was coming.
“Pull up,
pull up! It’s going to blow!” He shouted into the COM.
Inside the
Venture, sitting alone in a chair, connected to the machine, a man took a
breath a slave, and released it a free man.
Kerns’ SEF
flew out of the fireball spreading away from the enemy ship, he took a glance
back to see most of his pilots following on his tail. Just as he did the
Venture finally gave way unto the inevitable. The resulting shockwave of the
explosion hurled a massive fireball towards his ships. Kerns turned forwards
and tried to direct his thoughts, as if it would make the engines fly harder.
Behind his ship the fireball overtook all his wingmen save one, who was
catching up to the Commander.
The SEF
began to shake all around him, Kerns could barely hold onto the stick. The
electronics systems were starting to flicker, shorting out from the blast. His
knuckles were white, his arm muscles beginning to ache from the strain he was
putting on the yoke. ‘Just a bit further,’ he thought to himself. Then the
shockwave hit his ship.
The
concussion blasted his ship off orbit and destroyed his sensitive computers.
The SEF was thrown threw space like a kids ball. Kerns nearly blacked out from
the extreme G-forces pushing him against his seat. Out his canopy he saw the
remnants of the Venture flash past as the ship spun about in dizzying
acrobatics. The vacuum had consumed the fireball, and all that remained was
mere pieces. For a moment the ship spun off into space, then there was a quick
beep in the cockpit announcing that minimal thrusters had come back online. The
Commander used his considerable skills to get the ship back to a stationary
position. It took a minute, but at last he had control. And a view of the
battle some distance away.
Static
erupted in his ear, then faintly a voice. “Commander? Commander are you there?”
Barre Kerns
shook his head, getting rid of most of his fogginess. “Op 2? Is that you
Archie?”
“Affirmative
sir,” The young pilot answered back. “Just barely though sir. I’m afraid my SEF
is down to just life support. I’m out of this fight, Commander.”
Kerns tried
to run a diagnostic on his own ship, only to find dead screens. The smell of
burnt ozone filtered through the cockpit. After touching a few keys and getting
no response he tried the amateurs mechanic technique and hit the computer with
his fist. The screens stayed blank, but at least the ozone smell was beginning
to fade. So his life support was still functional as well.
“It’s the
same situation in my boat, Arch.” The Commander spoke into his COM.
“What do we
do know?”
Kerns
smiled. He could hear the anticipation in the pilot’s voice. He wanted to be
back in the action. Like any good fighter, sitting on the sidelines in a downed
ship wasn’t the most attractive option. “We sit tight. Nothing else to do.”
Kerns
watched the space cruisers out of his canopy. They were all some distance away;
the destruction of the Venture had thrown them far outside the battle area. At
least he could see no Needlers or CACs in pursuit. The Vehpad looked to be in
bad shape. Atmosphere was visibly draining from hundreds of breaches along its
hull; two thirds of the ships power appeared to be out. As he stared he watched
a squadron of ships leaving the Vehpad and returning to their home cruisers.
They looked like tiny insects from this distance. After a moment he saw the
Rygarian Cruiser’s engines begin to heat.
“Looks like
they’re bugging out Commander,” Archie spoke, “Think something spooked them?”
“No.” Kerns
replied. “I think they just got what they came for.”
As one the
three remaining battle cruisers turned and entered Omega-space, disappearing
from view. All that remained was the broken Vehpad, a hefty debris field and
his two disabled SEFs. Knowing what was to come Kerns began counting down from
10. As he reached 1, the hundreds of mines the Skeether force had left behind
obliterated the Vehpad. Kerns closed his eyes against the brilliance of the
fire, which lasted only a moment before evaporating in the absence of oxygen.
Kerns offered a prayer for all the lost men and women.
The two
pilots sat still and quiet in their ships, each man feeling similar emotions.
Finally the Commander reached out and activated his emergency beacon. Hearing
the echoing tone, Archie did the same.
There was a fleet of the Galactic Navy en route. Their
signal would be read and the two pilots would be picked up. Until that time,
there was nothing else to do but sit back and contemplate the graveyard that
occupied space around them.
END CHAPTER ONE