Wing Commander Rising DaystormA Story by Pwest Please forgive any errors that are in the story. This has been a personal project made for fan's of the game and in general. I own or have no rights to Wing Commander. E.A sports owns all rights.
Rising DayStorm.
INDEX ( Ruling Clans of the Kilrathi Empire. ) Nar Kiranka : The ruling clan of the Kilrathi empire long before
the start of the Kilrathi- Terran war. Nar Kiranka was the first clan to
develop space travel. Nar Caxki : Warrior clan noted for the brutal and tenacious
attacks on human war and medical ships along the front lines. Primary control
of front line worlds. Nar Issk: Also a warrior clan but more logical and analytical in
the attacks on human warships and space stations. The have constant disputes
with Nar Ragitagha. Nar Ragitagha: Largest and possible the most egotistical of all
the ruling clan’s in the Kilrathi Empire. They own most space stations,
colonies, and warships within the empire. Nar Ki’Ra: Noblest and highly respected, experts of espionage and
warfare tactics, though owns the least territory within the empire. Nar Sikhag: One of the lowest and least respected of the clans.
Their lack of knowledge of warfare regulated them to an inner world police
force at the servitude to the more powerful clans. They were disdained by
many. Kilra'hra : Lowborn Kilrathi non-nobles given light fighters and
low ranking in the Kilrathi armies with low stations until proven. Upon
advancing Kilra'hra advance to Ailra'hra or ace status and given their choice
of fighters and commander over a flight group or become a Kilrathi Vanguard
with possible command over a platoon. Thrak'hra : Of noble bloodlines who are ace fighter pilots
of their perspective clans. Kilrathi
TERRAN RANKING SYSTEM.
* * * * *
The orbital construction yard drifted
high in the Earth's atmosphere. As the sun's life giving rays broke the
planet’s zenith, they revealed a beehive of activity. Hundreds of multi-armed
weld bots scurried all over the framework of Confed’s newest carrier,
systematically searching out weak points. Intense white and blue arc flashes
flared all over, simulating a small space battle. Earth's major space port and
C.H.C (Confederation High Command) headquarters orbited close by the dockyard,
which was the hub of incoming construction freighters and cargo containers.
Since the carriers approval both dock yard and Earth's space port had become a
current of activity. Communication traffic was at an all-time high as inbound
transports request docking clearance that was disappearing posthaste. All
knew with growing annoyance that this would be the first of many problems. But
little could be done to avert the looming traffic jams that would soon have
many commercial and independent freighter captains on edge with frustration. If
things became too bad, it would begin to affect the completion and online
operation date. Delays and setbacks were something the admiralty wouldn't
tolerate given the hurdles it had to overcome with the project managers and
construction supervisors over the carrier. With the war raging across the front
line sector of Confederation space and the blood lusting Kilrathi making gains
on all fronts a frantic rush was what they wanted. The brass had set an initial
date of four years for the carrier's operational readiness. Project managers
had instantly scoffed at such a deadline at once, claiming something this
complex and massive would need six to seven years and that was pushing it. The
top brass argued that the cats wouldn't give us seven years and that they'd
better find a way to get it done. It wasn't long before egos and tempers from
both parties had soared to highs far above that of Mt. Everest and threatened
to reach far into unexplored space. Arguments soon broke out deadlocking the
project before frame had been bolted. The deadlock became so bad that
Confederation High Command was forced to step in and quell the dispute. As
ego's were soothed and tempers returned to Earth's precious atmosphere a
grudging agreement was reached with a completion date of five years. Though the
management team wouldn't guarantee all systems would be up and running. Confed
brass wanted to push the envelope again, but with C.H.C looming in the shadows
they knew better. For many in Sol system it was the beginning of many sleepless
nights. * * * New Liberty Station (Sol System) 2639 A.D. Twelve smooth high polished blackened
leathered chairs encircled the magnificent glass table centered in the room. A
small data console was centered atop the table, periodically displaying
random information. On a far wall hung the Confederation flag, ironed to a
sharp crisp with its silver and gold emblem displayed proudly in the center.
Hanging just as crisply next to it was the United Terrean Treaty flag
displaying over five hundred gold and silver stars with a much larger platinum
star in it's center, a reminder to all mankind of its humanity through unity.
Built into the opposing wall stood six large solar windows offering any viewers
a beautiful eye view of Sol systems main dock yard and it's many projects under
development. Next to the room's hatchway doors, a terminal flashed green
followed by a slight hiss as both doors opened. A tall, lithe man entered
almost immediately, as if he never broke stride. Following close behind him was
a shorter and slightly pudgier man. Both wore high silver and grey confederation
uniforms. Coming up the rear were two marines dressed heavily armored and
sporting intimidating blaster rifles. "Wait outside",
ordered the taller of the first pair. Their faces covered by blast shields hid
whatever expression they may have had. Both marines looked at each other
before turning about and exiting with the doors closing behind them. " Computer, upon my command you
will execute a full memory wipe of any preceding conversation from memory
banks." said the taller of the two. “Order confirmed. Admiral awaiting.
Command execute. “said a female computerized voice. “Admiral, it's not a good idea
to leave your personal guard." said the second. “Cody, if those Kilrathi b******s can
get an assassin this far behind our lines-- into the heart of Sol, then they
deserve a shot at me. ", Welker replied. Admiral Welker was a tall and
Swinney man who almost gave off a puny impression-- if not for his height. Few
who knew him however would ever say that Welker and weak were not used in the
same sentence. His salt and pepper hair and hawk like features spoke of
confidence and experience. Matched with a pair of thunder cloud grey eyes and
hard stress lines only caused by war he was one the confederations major sol
war hero. Among the first to encounter the Kilrathi empire years ago as a
capital in the confederation navy, he'd been named as one of the few who'd made
first contact and survived.
Back then, little was known about the
cats except that every encounter resulted in blood and chaos. Welker had proven
time and time again to be a survivor and brilliant tactician against the them.
He played a vital role in the McAuliffe ambush and was a primary factor in the
surviving confederation forces. Having been one of the few to receive and carry
out shore leave cancellation for forces under his command. A captain back then,
he’d rendezvous with Commander Winston Turner's surviving forces for a last-minute
counter offensive in the hopes of relieving pressure on the marines who were in
hard combat planet side. It wasn't long before he gained the rank of admiral,
at which constant fighting had led to all-out war. Winning several major
engagements and playing another vital role at the recent Enyo engagement he had
linked up with Geoffrey Tolwyn, a promising captain to route Kilrathi forces at
Enyo had preserved systems along confeds front lines and ensured the existence
of a confederation presence, which from the beginning had its back against the wall. The cost was
steep, losing close to a quarter million colonist prisoners to the
Kilrathi. Soon after, his reputation had grown
to legendary status on par with Admiral Banbridge himself as a war hero and
major thorn in the Kilrathi's side. Confed had even named it’s foremost
battlestation, a pearl and major stronghold, after the man for his exploites
over the empire. Even the elite within the cats had to give the man grudging
respect for a hairless ape human. “Still sir, it's just not a safe
practice." Cody said. “Cody, if things don't change for
Confed soon, then safe won't matter.” Welker waved dismissively. Both came to
the table and sat. Cody studied Welker's features briefly, seeing worry and
stress lines almost magically appear across the man's face. The man was
under a mountain of pressure from the situations of war not to mention this
newest project the Confed. C.H.C had just approved. Pinching the brim of his nose Welker
rubbed there momentarily before saying, “Cody I’m in mind to scratch this thing
before it really takes off. " Cody Ramirez’s palms went clammy. Sweat
droplets formed across his forehead despite the cool temperature in the
room. He spent six years of his life investing and researching for this
ship and had called in favors owed, sacrificed his personal life, and put his
career on the line to get C.H.C's blessing. To hear Welker talk about
scratching the project struck Cody as nothing short of an absolute terror that
he would not accept. “Admiral, you can't do
that." “Wrong Cody. These five
platinum stars say and Admiral Banbridges’s personal approval I run the
show with this. " Welker stated, pointing to his shoulder bar. Cody sensed
the Admiral was not coming off arrogant by any means-- he was simply stating a
fact. Due to his many accomplishments and victories over the Kilrathi he didn't
doubt that Welker could do almost anything he wished. Despite the fact of
Welker's prowess as a tactician and commander, the Kilrathi were winning one
brutal victory after another, which was a testament to their lust for battle
only sharpened by their killer feline instincts. “Sir, we've already begun the inner framework
and cargo ships are already starting to arrive with construction
materials." Cody explained. Welker shrugged as if it did
not matter. “Look son, the price tag on this thing is by far the most Confed
has spent on any Capital ship within the past 50 years. We could get seven
badly needed destroyers four frigates, and a number of assault transports built
and ready for operation at half the cost and in less time." Welker countered. “To what end sir?" Welker gave
him a brash and confused look. “Admiral, we don't need more ships to offset
theirs." Sitting back in his chair
Welker folded his hands and waited for Cody to continue. “At almost every engagement we
either come away with a defeat or a stalemate at best sir. It's not enough. We
need a ship, a rallying emblem of the Confederation that will spark moral and
hope in our troops, while packing a punch that will put the fear of GOD into
those Kilrathi b******s. This is that ship sir." "I don't like the idea of
putting all of Confed's eggs in one basket, Cody. And that's exactly what
you’re asking me to do. " " This is the only basket
that won't break sir." Ramirez countered. Exhaling, Welker rose from his
seat and walked to the solar windows staring out to the dock yard with his hands
clasped behind his back. Watching the bright arc's flashes made by the hundreds
of weld bots he stood silently in thought. “Cody, how you sold Confederation
High Command on this is beyond me." he said after a moment. “Don’t get me
wrong son, you’re one hell of a research and design engineer." he
continued, turning to face Ramirez. “Your record speaks for itself
no doubt son. Did outstanding work on modifying the hornet's proton cooling
system and improving gravity boots for Confed's shock troopers. I know you
played a big part in the redesigning of our fleet's Raptor class attack
fighters. But hell, Cody this is just too much." Cody knew he had to play hard ball
with the admiral but wasn't sure what his next move was. Welker was a practical
man and if he thought that Confed's newest carrier not even off the
construction dock wasn't in Confed's best interest then he could kill it with
one word. Despite knowing this Cody needed to show certainty and strength in
front of Welker if he wanted to gain any ground. “Admiral, why build ships that do
nothing to give us an advantage? What's the point of our fleet if we can't gain
the offensive? Last time I checked it's been a long while since we launched
a campaign at getting into Kilrathi space. For the most part it's been defense,
defense, and more defense." Cody stated. Welker spun staring straight at
Ramirez an annoyance in his visage. a lump of uncertainty formed in
Cody's Throat, but held the Admiral's stare. “What are you implying, son?"
Welker prompted almost suspiciously. “What I'm saying sir is the Kilrathi
have been pushing and we need to push back if were to get ahead in the war sir,
now. Our backs are against the wall here as you said. This carrier with my
weapon design will be the turning point that put those b******s back on the
run." “That’s another thing I'm uncertain
about Cody. We’re building the most expensive, time consuming carrier ever and
a huge part of our efforts will be going to the construction of your particle
weapon system. A system that has never been successfully gotten past the theory
and design stage. “Welker stated, returning to his seat. ” Here's what I see happening here.
We build the damn thing putting in thousands of man hours plus billions in
credits, get this ship up and running, test this particle energy weapon design
you came up with and BOOM! Blow the ship up with all hands aboard. Now where
would that leave us? Cody, particle beam energy has always ended up costing
Confed lives’ and money and I hate to say it but it's been tried over and over
by people smarter and more experienced than you.” “Correct sir, but we have something
they didn't." Cody countered. “And what's that?” Welker
asked. Pulling a small holo-chip from his
chest pocket Ramirez inserted it into the table console. Two blood red holo
crystals appeared hovering over the table console with a small stream of data
to the side. “Ah yes! your giant sugar
canes." Welker exclaimed sarcastically. “Sir we first discovered these in the
Brim-" " I've already read the
reports on them Cody and know pretty much everything you do about them, which
is little to nothing." Welker interrupted. “I’m convinced these crystals
are what we need and will bridge the gap between particle energy theory and
actual application sir.” Cody stated. Welker sat back staring at the
hovering images deep in thought. “Have you been able to take a sample of them?”
he asked after a moment. A slight frown appeared on Cody's face. “We have made minor progress;
every attempt from nuclear drilling to intense sonic distilment has only
rewarded us with the tiniest fracture-- it's enough for a start, sir. It's been
an extensive process," Cody confessed. Welker exhaled, shaking his head in
clear disappointment. “And you want to use these things to build a non-proven
energy weapon. “He stated. “I personally think it's a good
sign, sir." Cody said. “How so?” Welker asked. “The fact that we can
barely get a sample tells me that whatever these crystals are made of is a
material strong enough to channel the particle atoms and ions into them without
going Boom as you said sir. " “Ok granted Cody, but with that
said you don't really know what will happen once we start juicing these things.
And I know your team racked up a nice bill for C.H.C to pick up just to get
that tiny sample. Imagine what the cost will be when your actually start making
way for testing, but aside from that all you really have is numbers, and
no real proof. “Welker challenged. ” Correct sir, just like every other
researcher who has tried before me to weaponize particle energy. Your right,
all I have is numbers, but numbers don't lie admiral." Cody said. “Then why is it that this has never
worked before son?” Welker probed. “Two things sir. First Confed
had never had anything remotely anything close to the compounds found in these
crystals, so experimentation wasn’t possible.” ” Experimentation still won't be possible,
if we can’t keep the bill paid to understand of what we’re experimenting
with.”, the Admiral interjected. ” Yes sir, conducting trial and
error research is going to be exhaustively expensive but worth it in the
end." Cody assured. “And the second?" Steeling
with Admiral with a firm and serious look as he had ever made Cody said, “Me.
I’m not bragging Admiral but it’s a fact I’m at the top of the field in this
area of research. I don’t say that with arrogance sir, just simply stating the
truth that has been proven over and over again. " Giving Cody a slight nod of approval,
Welker studied the crystals for a moment before saying, “This is a gamble son
nothing more. I don't like rolling the dice unless four out of six sides have a
good outcome. I'm barely seeing three here." Cody held his breath waiting
for Welker to continue. “Our backs are against the wall harder than you realize.
Those cats out produce us in combat ships, troops, offensive assault, and
combat tactics across the board. They control more systems and have continually
stepped up the pressure on our front line systems. Your right about one thing
son. We need to take the offensive if we're to have any hope of winning this
war let alone surviving it. Yet I still fail to see how one carrier no matter
how advanced will do that. “ “Admiral--", Cody began. Welker held up a hand cutting
him short. “You convinced Confederation
High Command of these, so I won't make any waves on it. C.H.C counsel would
crap kittens if I did and I've got to other things on my plate at the moment
that need my attention, though I still don't like the idea of it, nor the
overwhelming cost of this. As you said numbers don't lie and I'm seeing a huge
bill here that will damn near break our piggy bank. “At Welker's announcement
Cody heard himself let loose a heavy exhale. “Thank you, sir." “Don’t thank me yet Cody, I'm
fixing to make some changes and you probably won't like them.” Welker
continued. “As of this moment I'm moving you to lead project manager over this
carrier. You'll be transferred to my department and will oversee every nut,
bolt nano-steel beam and operational system of this carrier. “A sudden dizziness suddenly
overtook him, almost as if he'd been hit by a left hook. ” Sir, I'm not a project manager, I
have no idea how to coordinate something like this." He protested. “You baked the cake on this
deal, Cody so now you’re going to spread the icing. If you’re as good as the
facts state, then this won’t be anything you can’t handle.” ” Or do I get my destroyers and
frigates after all? “Welker asked pointedly. “Understood sir.” Cody said
defeated. “Good, and relax son you will have
my best working with you they may find a way to cut a few corners on cost “You’ll have four years Cody to get
this beast running and combat ready.” "Admiral, that’s not
possible!" Cody protested earnestly. Welker gave Cody a look that
words need not convey. “Four years, yes sir. “He said
dowerly, taking an uppercut to the jaw. Welker nodded in satisfaction. “Good, I'm putting Alpha 1 level
security clearance on this Cody. There's no way we can hide a new ship coming
online in the heart of Sol system so I'm not even going to try. However maybe
it will take wondering eyes off other projects we have going on in the dock
yards. “Welker mused. "Other project's sir?" Cody
echoed. “Never mind Cody, your task is
this carrier nothing more.” Both knew of the {LEAK} problem
that had plagued Confed throughout the war. Freelance data thieves were
renowned to hijack data of both Confed and Kilrathi information and sell it to
the other, playing one off the other. Initially a bidding war between the two
had flared over stolen info. Due to the results of victories and resource
systems taken in battle by the Kilrathi Empire, the Confederation had fallen
behind in its ability to pay would be hacker’s prices for stolen Kilrathi
intelligence. In an effort to que the data thieves’ Confed had launched several
military operations to exterminate the data thieves’ hub’s but made out with
little success. It was well assumed that spies were everywhere in ConFed ranks.
To make matters worse Confed had ended up strengthening what would be a
business relationship between the data- pirates and their Kilrathi agents- a
relationship the cats did not mind at all. “Also, I want you to start screening
a crew for the carrier. Pilots, techs, maintenance, operations staff, the
works. Pick those with exploratory records. I want the best pulled and assigned
here. I don't care where you get them from. I will personally review your
selections and make the transfers. If this ship is as good as you make it out
then, it'll need the best we have. “Welker said. Cody felt overwhelmed at
everything Welker was stockpiling on his plate, as if it were not overloaded
enough. Yet to those whom much is given much is expected in return, so he
thought. He'd spent almost his whole career in Confed's R&D department as
research engineer, he had no idea on how he was going to oversee any of this
let alone where to begin. Nodding in understanding he asked,
" Is there anything else sir?” Looking him over Cody could only guess at
the admiral was thinking. “Dismissed." Standing he fired off a salute
before turning and heading to the door. “Ramirez." he heard Welker
call. “Confed is putting a lot on the line
with this Cody, I have a feeling that this will make or break FleetCom in the
war. I hope you know what you’re doing." Welker offered. “Thank you,
admiral, so do I. “he said. Welker watched him exit through the
hatchway doors. “Computer,” Welker said when the doors had hissed closed,
“Execute." TNN ( Terrean News Network) As disputes in the Gemini Sector
continue to grow between Confederation Mineral Administration and the resource
rich world’s in Riley system, pirate activity is on the rise. Five confirmed
cargo freighters have been hijacked with their disappearance unsolved, all
hands are presumed dead. Violent attacks have risen as well, totaling seven
strikes on refinery and processing plants with rogue bandits making off with
resources estimated at over three hundred million in credits. Riley defense
forces and patrols have been stalled in locating the pirate’s base of
operations and are calling for Confederation backing to assist in location and
immediate destruction of their home front. Confed officials said they will send
an investigation force to determine the authenticity of the allegations, but no
military forces will be shifted from front line patrols at this time. Prime
Minister Spaulding is demanding immediate action from FleetCom military staff.
Riley system holds nine resource rich planets and is a cornerstone of
confederation mining operations. As the pirates grow bolder Spaulding may have
no choice but to play the waiting game as almost all of Confed forces are tied
up against the Kilrathi in the war effort. Twin's Star System Epsilon Sector < CONFEDERATION
FRONT LINE.>
RAPTOR CLASS ( CONFEDERATION HEAVY
FIGHTER) HORNET CLASS ( CONFEDERATION LIGHT FIGHTER/ SCOUT). “Break right! Break right d****t! ,
I've got tone! “Wildcat screamed into his comm set. Sweating Knight cursed while
pulling his Raptor into a vicious hard right. Fusion fire from the pursuing
Krant chewed into his fighter igniting warning lights throughout his cockpit.
Without warning a bright white light overtook his cockpit followed by several
large shock waves that threatened to shake his fighter apart. “BOOM! No more kitty whoo
hoo!!!" he heard his wing man yell excitedly. Knight swore under his
breath about new pilot's or pleebs as they were commonly called among the more
experienced pilots who were lucky enough to survive the harsh front line
encounters against the cats out along the front. “D****t! You almost took me with him!"
Knight shouted. “Sorry boss, just got a little trigger happy." Wildcat
said excitement still in his voice. “Where to next? The huntin’s good
right now." his wing mate asked eagerly. Before he could reply a distress
blared to life over his com set. “Mayday all T.C.S ships repeat all T.C.S ships
Jalathi bombers on direct line for Phobias. Priority one engage the bombers and
break off their run! “came the order. " You heard em boss! Let's take it
to em! “Wildcat exclaimed. ” Wildcat wait!" Knight began,
only to have a barrage of cannon fire hammer into his Raptor followed by the
angry wail of a missile lock. Shields long gone sparks and a small fire erupted
inside his cockpit burning out several systems including his comset. Pulling up
and kicking his afterburners Knight activated the filtration system while
transferring power from weapons to engines. As his Raptor surged ahead the wail
of the missile lock fell silent though he took another volley of fusion fire
from his nemising pursuer. Gritting his teeth Knight punched his afterburners
to full and activated a friend or foe missile. Keeping a straight course he
caught sight of cannon fire shooting past on both sides of his ship. Without warning Knight cut all power to
engines while putting his Raptor into a vertical one eighty spin. The pursuing
Krant raced into view as Knight fired his surprise on the unsuspecting
Kilrathi. At such close range there was little the Kilrathi could do to avoid
the deadly projectile. The Krant went up in shower of debris that banged and
crashed into Knight's prone Raptor. “Gotcha!" Knight exclaimed. With no
time to spare he redirected power back to engines and headed off in the
direction of his eager co-pilot. Bringing his Raptor into a high turn Knight's
gaze fell on a site that did little to easy his fears. Phobias loomed into view
it's turrets alive in a blaze of firefighting, valiantly against three
harassing kamchaka corvettes. Even from this distance he could make out that
Phobias wasn't making out well. The corvettes had the carrier locked in from all
three sides with their turret’s actively giving a brutal beating to the
carrier's armaments. Just then a bright light went up from the carrier and he
saw a small section of his home for the last three years disappear and a small
forest of debris begin to spread away from the carrier. “Mayday all T.C.S fighter's!
Mayday! Phobias under attack, repeat Phobias under attack get those b******s
off us!" his comset demanded. Surprised the communication came
through Knight opened his comset. Before he could say anything, a harsh static
barrage painfully assaulted his ears. Shutting down his comset he swore words
only known to sailors. His hopes brightened some as he saw a series of small
projectiles launch from Phobias inching their way to one of the smaller
corvettes. Eyes wide in satisfaction a fierce grin appeared on his face as
small explosions appeared all over the corvette followed by a larger explosion
in the center that broke the corvette in two. As the capital ship broke away
into deep space a sense of intense satisfaction filled Knight's veins knowing
that all hands aboard wouldn't survive. Just then a badly damaged hornet flew
into view followed by a pair of Krant's in hot pursuit. Before Knight could
engage, an imperial missile launched from one Krant streaked towards the doomed
hornet. Catching sight of a small figure ejecting Knight watched the missile
explode into the hornet taking it up in a ball of flame temporarily blinding
him before being snuffed out by space’s cold vacuum. He knew that the ensuing
shock wave would rip the ejected pilot apart leaving him no chance at being
rescued. As his vision returned the only remains he could see were scattered debris
of the hornet. Without warning a barrage of fusion fire tore into his fighter.
A flush of frustration pulsed in his blood at Wildcats abandonment. Instantly
he cut engine power causing a Krant to over shoot him. As the harassing Krant
loomed into view directly ahead Knight didn't wait for a missile lock instead
using his own visual line of sight to target the Kilrathi. Missile away he went
vertical powering his engines while hitting his afterburners putting distance
between him and the Kilrathi fighter. A bright flash soon erupted signifying
the enemy Krant was no more. For him it was a sight that did little to lift his
spirits. How the hell had the cats caught them
with hardly any warning was beyond his understanding. For almost the entire
week Phobias patrols had little to report on returning patrols. FleetCom Intel
had no information on a Kilrathi base in this system nor carrier activity. No
incoming warning had been sounded or incoming jump transmission had been
detected yet three Kilrathi corvette’s and several dozen fighters had magically
appeared out of nowhere. He couldn’t make sense of it. It had been pure
luck that several of Phoebe’s patrols had been on return when the Kilrathi had
attacked. They alone had been able to fend off the ferocious opening assault
that would have ended Phobias and all hands aboard. Their sacrifice had bought
Knight and other core pilots the precious moments needed to suit up and launch
out to continue the fight. A fight that to Knight looked like
they were losing. Veering away he caught sight of three
Jalthi bombers packed tightly together making a torpedo run. “My turn now.“he
growled. As the bombers crept closer Knight swept in unknowingly behind them.
He turned off missile tracking, again deciding to use line of sight. A nasty
grin appeared on his face as he gave a quick tap to his afterburners and firing
a missile. The missile struck true taking one bomber up in huge white haze.
Spreading the haze encompassed a second bomber proving too much punching
through its shielding amd armorants with it too being destroyed. Luck however
wasn’t totally with Knight as the last bomber got off a torpedo. Before the
torpedo had cleared the bomber however, a bright stream of proton fire caught
the torpedo causing it to go up in a destructive flash taking the last bomber
with it. Squinting and turning his head away Knight had to quickly veer his
fighter away as well, or be consumed in the blast. As the flash faded he caught sight of
a lone hornet racing past. Nodding his head “Now that’s how you do it.” he said
appreciatively. ““Say hoss where you at? I need help pronto. “ Wildcats voice
crackled through weakly. Given Wildcats impulsiveness and fly by the whim of
it, Knight didn’t doubt that in the least. * * * * *
(Kilrathi FIGHTER/BOMBER/ESCORT SHIP)
KAMEKH CORVETTE. Second Fang Rral’Mek Kitar watched in
pleasure as his Jalthi’s laser and neutron guns blew apart the monkey
ape’s puny and pathetic fighter. Long
range scouts had detected the presence of a terran carrier in this system but
until recently, efforts to track its location had failed. It had been luck that
the human capital ship had passed too close to an asteroid field tripping off
Kilrathi hidden sensors that had pinged the ship’s location. His superiors had
decided a lone carrier without escort was too rich a target to pass up. It was
the perfect opportunity to test the empire’s newest weapon against the furless
cowards. Whispers of some new experimental transdrive gate system had
been developed by one of the major ruling clans were rumored within certain
circles in the empire but specifics had been impossible to pin down. Rral'Mek
had heard some of these tail tail whispers through some of his clan's Kal Shintarh,
but nothing concrete about what clan was responsible was known. He hardly cared
either way. All that mattered in his eye’s was the death of the cowardly
terrans and their pathetic fleets at his claws. Blood would spill their blood. For the past several months he
had been on patrol detail for one of Ru’Karr’s com’s listening posts hidden
deep within an asteroid field. The boring routine patrols soon became apparent
thus increasing is ever present longing for combat . It was a much
welcome change when one of his clan’s Shintahr’s had given him an escort
assignment and made him personally in charge over the Jalthi interceptors.
Several squadrons of interceptors and Krants (that had been modified for
capital ship strikes since no heavy bombers were immediately available.), a
Ralari destroyer and three Kamchaka corvettes’ had been launched at once from
an unknown location on an intercept course. Rral’Mek had no idea where the
assault forces had came from. But he knew that no imperial forces were within a
three system range. His intuition told him the empire had indeed built some
type of new jump gate. It was the only rational reason that could explain how
the assault force had popped in system. All but the destroyer which
suffered an engine meltdown had made it, and undetected right into the
unsuspecting lap of the human monkeys. He knew that if only the destroyer had
made it the battle would have been long over. A weak race, with no sense of
honor or pride in themselves Rral’Mek thought to himself. Not worthy of life or
even existence as a slave race in the empire to be sure. They were nothing but
prey. His race were hunters, predators, acting in their GOD given right to rule
the stars as they saw fit. However his superiors would be pleased. As squadron
leader of the interceptors sent to provide support for the bombers, honor and
glory was his. An image of his pride mate appeared on his display screen
stealing him from his thoughts. “Honored warrior, the
Krants are taking heavy losses and the furless humans have destroyed one
of our kamkcha corvettes.” A low rumbled growl escaped Rral’Meks throat. These
humans have proved lucky more often than not of late, Rral’Mek thought. Knowing
that there were too few of his fighters to cover the bombers and keep the ape
fighters off the corvettes which were already under fire from the human
carrier. Yet if the bombers were destroyed then it would be highly unlikely
that the corvettes would have the firepower to finish off the terran carrier.
If only the destroyer had made the jump, then this conflict would be finished,
he growled to himself, cursing bad fortune. “Inform the Kamkcha captains I
am pulling our fighter cover to protect the bombers.” He ordered. “But warrior
if you pull the cover from the corvettes they will be exposed to human fighters
and will not survive. “, his clan mate protested. “If they die it will be due
to their own stupidity of being drawn in so close to the terran carrier and not
to our strategy of battle. The captains were foolhardy and arrogant to come so
close, knowing we were not at our full strength. Their fate is by their own
doing.” he said. “Honored warrior if we�"““Carrier out your orders, or I shall
drink your pathetic blood from the bones of your ancestors. “Rral’Mek
growled “Yes honored warrior by your command.“, his clan mate submitted. Switching off his screen Rral’Mek
knew the battle was far from over and that more losses where to be paid by his
warriors before the fall of the human carrier. Still a victory, but a more
costly one to be sure. So be it, he thought, such prices where to pay in war.
And the spoils went to the victor did they not? Putting his Jalthi in a low run
Rral’Mek’s sensors picked up a pair of Krants close by, trimming the asteroid
belt looking to sneak close enough for a strike without drawing any unwanted
attention. Slowing his fighter as not to overshoot the bombers Rral’Mek kept a
fair distance back scanning for any approaching fighters that might intercept
the bombers. After a moment both bombers gave a slight touch to their
afterburners while launching a heavy set of torpedos towards the damaged
carrier. No sooner had the torpedos made good their launch a missile followed
closely by a barrage of proton fire slammed into one bomber taking it apart at
the mid-section. “Purr C’hat Rost!” Rral’Mek swore
seeing an undetected Raptor and Hornet emerge from the asteroid field. Startled
the second bomber punched it’s after burners not paying attention to where it
was going while banking into a high climb. The unfortunate Kilrathi didn’t see
a huge asteroid rock hurling directly in its path. A large BOOM and a shower of
sparks put a quick end to the Kilrathi bomber. Powering engines Rral’Mek chased
after the Hornet and Raptor while silently reminding himself to be careful so
close to the giant rocks or he too could share the same fate as the foolish
bomber. Opening communications Rral’Mek hailed his clan mate. “Yes honored warrior?” came the
reply. “Form on my wing and provide cover.” “As you command my warrior.”
His clan mate said knowing better to question Rral’Mek a second time. Closing
the distance Rral’Mek wasted no time firing an imperial missile which struck
home destroying the Hornet. The remaining Raptor went vertical heading to its
home carrier and the safety of its turret batteries. With Fusion cells powered
at full Rral’Mek unleashed a heavy stream of fire at the fleeing Raptor. Teeth
gritted in satisfaction he watched as fusion fire tore into the Raptors
shields, eating away the armor and damaging critical systems. Veering away the
Raptor opted for a more clustered escape heading back towards the asteroid
field. As Rral’Mek went to follow suit two huge explosions drew his attention
towards the damaged terran carrier. Adrenaline coursed through his body watching
a huge section of the human’s capital ship break away and off into deep space.
Debris and wreckage floated everywhere from where the torpedo struck true,
telling Rral’Mek that this human carrier was on its last leg. Not more than a
second later a several missiles followed by a barrage of turret fire shot
towards one of the harassing corvette’s. Blanketing the small ship it was too
overpowering chewing into its armor. The Kilrathi ship went up in a ball of
fire next to the human carrier adding more debris and wreckage. Pulling away
Rral’Mek had no time to consider the effect of the loss of another corvette in
the battle if he were to crush the annoying human fighter trying to make good
its escape. Maxing engines to full Rral’Mek activated missile tracking looking
to put a quick end to the Raptor. Entering the asteroid field the Raptor began
executing erratic movements trying to confuse Rral’Mek and force him into a
lapse of judgement that might cost him his life. Reflexes on edge at having to
navigate through the deadly rocks, Rral’Mek felt a twinge of respect for the
human fighter, knowing that at this speed the slightest error would have deadly
consequences for both. With little room for error, Rral’Mek
began firing at and around the fleeing Raptor. Hailing his clanmate on his com
channel Rral’Mek ordered, “Shoot those rocks the ape man draws near, perhaps
the breakage of one will crash its way into our prey.” “Yes honored warrior.” his clan mate
responded. As laser and neutron fire from both
Jalthi tore into the rocks around the escaping Raptor Rral’Mek knew his prey
was cornered. With his clan mate hammering away at the smaller rocks Rral’Mek
switched to missile tracking looking to end the game. Surprised he lucky gained
a lock with the digital icon going red through the heavy asteroid debris. I have Sivar’s favor this day,
he told himself.“Your life ends, human.” Rral’Mek growled firing. Suddenly
neutron and mass driver fire blazed in followed by a missile both of which
struck his clan mate’s Krant taking off a wing and putting the ship into a
deadly spin. Spinning his clan mate’s ship rammed into a large asteroid
pummeling the ship into nothing. Rral’Mek’s scanners picked up a pursuing Raptor
behind him dodging the asteroids just as they were and making good on a
surprise attack in an attempt to save its fleeing comrade. As if sensing
event’s had changed the fleeing Raptor did a quick one eighty flip, (a tactic
Rral’Mek learned human fighter pilots loved to employ), punched after burners
and was racing straight towards him with proton cannons blazing. So be it he
told himself if this was his death, it was to be a death fighting to bring
glory to Sivar and honor to his clan. Putting engines to full Rral’Mek threw an
unending volley of fire at the oncoming Raptor, and while doing damage, his
ship was on the receiving end as well. Mass Driver and Neutron fire
ramming into his fighter Rral’Mek had little room to evade due to the dense
cluster of asteroids. Jalthi’s were great interceptors and could take a
beating, but only so much of a beating.
Gritting his fangs he fired volley after volley while unloading his
Jalthi’s complement of missiles at the approaching fighter, determined his
death would be one of honor. Systems wailed with critical damage and smoking
battered circuitry all throughout the cockpit screamed as he pushed the Kant’s
engines as hard as they would go. He intended to plow into his oncoming prey
taking the cowardly human with him. Suddenly his eye caught sight of a missile
veer off course zigging and zagging from its intended target shooting instead
into a fair sized asteroid. Slamming hard into the rock the missile detonated
shattering the immense bolder apart. A dozen fair sized boulders hurled
towards Rral’Meks interceptor at deadly speeds. Seeing the Raptor jerk into an
upward climb Rral’Mek followed suit, only to have a chunk of rock slam into his
fighter putting it into an uncontrollable spin. Fighting to regain
control against his Krant’s stubborn spin Rral’Mek roared as he regained the
fighter’s command. This was not his intended death he
knew. His was to be the death of a warrior. A predator’s death. Not a human’s
death. Reacting on instinct, he pulled his
ejection level centered beneath him. Instantly his blast shield slammed down
over his face, blinding him from the constant red flash of the impending
collision. With his canopy rocketing off him felt the blast of his seat hurling
him into space. He had no control over the rapid twisting and spinning that
zero gravity provided and could only hope he didn’t get flattened by another
high speed asteroid or worse yet be caught in the explosion of his fighter. No
sooner had the thought occurred Rral’Mek felt his entire suit go from a comfortable
chill to an intense heat so great he began panting in an effort to stay cool.
As the intense heat faded back into a cold chill, his entire body was suddenly
hammered painfully by a swarm of debris. Heart racing he felt something large
and heavy crash into his blast shield so hard it left a large crack across the
plate. Several other large pieces stabbed painfully into his body so hard he
began to worry that he had a breach in his suit. His worries proved true when he
heard a slight hissing sound coming from somewhere inside indicating he
was indeed leaking precious oxygen. He gave a silent prayer to Sivar that his
squadron would pick up his ejection signal and even now where organizing to
retrieve him back to his fellow warriors before his oxygen ran out. He was
after all Second Fang being in command of fighter cover operations and came
from a strong bloodline that was important in his clan. Ru’ Karr could not
afford to lose warriors at the mere chance of misfortune. It was not tainted
like the more common Char’Risst or half-breed blood commonly found in the
lower house of the empire and of little influence or power in the empire. As his consciousness began to fade Rral'Mek
found his memory slipping back into his youth, an era that as a cub he had tried
very hard to forget. * * * * Knight saw Wildcats situation and it
wasn't good by far. The two pursuing Jalthi’s had his wingman in a bind.
With afterburners at full Knight was pushing his Raptor and his reflexes to the
edge within the asteroid field trying to stay alive and save his rookie at the
same time. With one Jalthi opening up fire at Wildcat he had no time to waste.
At confirmation of a missile lock and sent in his own volley of neutron fire
followed closely by his missile at one of the Krants. Luck was with him as the
proton fire hammering home and his missile to put an end to one threat. With a
wing breaking off ,the Jalthi went into an unrecoverable spin before hitting a
large floating rock. The ensuing explosion broke the rock apart and sent deadly
pieces flying in all different directions including towards Knight. Quick
thinking he banked a vicious left while firing his cannons hoping to pave a
pathway to safety. “Hell ya! Nice shootin hoss,
let's flip the script on these kitties!” Wildcats voice broke through his
comsystem. Knowing it was pointless to reply Knight focused on clearing some of
the smaller asteroids. Turning the bank into a loop Knight brought his Raptor
back around almost too its exact position. Due to the dense asteroids it was
near impossible for his scanners to pick up the remaining interceptor. Peering
into the rocky void he made out the Jalthi a fair distance off, heading
straight for WildCat, who had done a flip one eighty. He got an uneasy feeling in his gut
as he made out both fighters going head to head in a massive fire exchange.
With his Raptor closing it was all he could do to maneuver through the
clustered rocks to get a target lock on the remaining Jalthi. His missile icon
came alive and began homing for a lock on the enemy fighter. “Come on, come
on!.” he heard himself say. Then without warning a missile that was streaking Wildcat’s
way veered off course smashing into an asteroid breaking it apart. As clusters
of debris spread Knight watched as both ships pulled vertical in an attempt to
avoid being pummeled. "Eject Wildcat! Eject!" he
screamed into his com seeing the deadly event unfold. He watched the Jalthi get
struck by an asteroid, putting it in a spin and after a moment regain control
being the quicker of the two climbed higher only to have Wildcats Raptor crash
into it blowing both fighters apart in a destructive haze. "No!" he
screamed. Tears on the rise he slammed a gloved fist into his console screen
several times before it began to crack. For Knight this made seven pilots under
his wing he'd lost. Seven rookie pilots in five months that he felt their blood
was on his hands. It would be another death letter to a mother and father he'd
never see nor meet. To Knight it was another layer of his spirit and confidence
that had been peeled away by the Kilrathi. * * * T.C.S PHOBEUS (CONFEDERATION CARRIER)
T.C.S PHOBIAS 1 Hour Later "Hold on mate! We've got to cut
the hinges, best cover your eyes!" a thick Australian voice shouted though
Knight's cockpit. Even with eyes covered he could
still make out bright flashes through his darkened visage. "On three you
dingo’s. Three!" With grunts and groans of effect the
six hanger techs heaved over Knight's canopy pushing it over the side with one
last shove. “Christ man, your Raptor looks worse
off than my hanger." said a heavy set man leaning down and offering a hand
to Knight. Wing Lead Michael Fanin aka, Knight
grabbed hold pulling him out of the cockpit up to the docking scaffold. At a
hair under six feet Michael Fanin had a slim and wiry frame. His features were
average having high cheek bones, ocean blue eyes that went well with his light
brown hair and a sharp chin. Surveying the hanger Michael wasn't
sure it the statement he heard was true. A multitude of fires both hazard and
chemical could be seen throughout the hanger, control teams where scattering
everywhere identifying the more hazardous chemical fires and hauling damage
control equipment towards them. With the ships filtration system out time was
of the essence to quell the fires before toxin levels reached a deadly level. A
massive barrage of cargo containers, fuel and power cells mixed in with wounded
pilots and crew members could be seen everywhere. Steel beams, structure
pillars and reinforced collars lay wrecked among the jumble. It looked as if
any moment the whole hanger would collapse in on itself. The launch was in no
better condition with large cracks sporting throughout a fair length of its
strip, making safe landings near impossible. Catch nets were alive with fire
putting up a nasty smoke in the already toxic air. Splotches of hydraulic oil,
grease, gear oil blood and other unidentifiable liquid could be seen at various
spots. Thick and so well mixed together Michael couldn't make out what was
what. Trauma teams where on the go, trying to get control over the wounded but
they were vastly outnumbered. Tech crews had cargo lifts, loaders to the
brim with materials trying to restore them in a safe area to avoid them being
mixed with the fires to prevent an explosive reaction. To Micheal it seemed as
if the hand of GOD came down and swiped the hanger into pure chaos. “Alright, enough lollygagging! More
incoming fighters and no room to park them. Everyone back to stations and
continue to clear the way!" the man ordered, scattering several dozen
people back to the chaotic ruins. “This area should be evacuated Dennis.
If the hanger goes there's no telling how many people we'll lose." Michael
stated. “Hell mate the whole bloody
ship is like this. Those b******s caught us with our pants down. “He
said. Maintenance Chief Dennis Conner was
the hanger's senior officer and a twenty year veteran with the confederation. A
large burly man he sported a thick tan and smooth shaven face that did his
complexion well. Few could tell how advanced in age he was though many onboard
had an ongoing pool of almost a thousand credits. Dennis had agreed that if
anyone came within two years of his age he'd confess and would be expecting a
percentage of the pot. The current bet stood at fifty three with no winners
yet. Having beefy forearms and a large frame added with a smooth bald head he
was perhaps Phobias’s largest officer. Already having his career in FleetCom
Navy completed he could have retired with premium benefits and spent the rest
of his days on one of the inner border worlds back close to Sol living
pleasurable and care free life. But when the discovery of the
Kilrathi came and their thirst for battle known Dennis put aside his
retirement, choosing instead to stay in service and push the Kilrathi to the
edge of known space if he could. Being Earthborn Dennis had family and close
ties back on Earth which was partly his aim at staying in service. Not being to
Earth in almost seven years the man looked at Phoebe’s crew as a second family
and the ship as a second home. Having spent a good term of service aboard
Phobias he'd made friends in many different areas and the crew had
affectionately dubbed him Aussie for his unique accent. For many aboard Phobias
in their eyes there wasn't a man alive who knew more about every class of
fighter within the confederation fighter classes’. Taking a moment to gaze at
the wrecked scene before him Michael did a quick assessment hanger damage caused
by the assault. He knew that if the rest of Phobias was like this, then the
ship was indeed in critical condition. It had been pure luck that
they'd been able to destroy enough of the bombers to ward off the rest of the
attack. With only one corvette left, the Krant's fighting off Confed Raptors
and too few bombers left the cats had opted for a tactical withdrew which was
rare for them. He looked at it as luck nothing more. If they'd forced the
battle just a hair harder, then Phobias would have been lost with all hands
aboard. It was a victory of survival and Michael knew it. Turning his attention
to Aussie Michael gave the man a once over noting grease and oil stains
blotched throughout the man's uniform. Catching sight of a few second degree
burns and two nasty gashes on the man's forehead and forearm he could see fresh
blood seeping. “You need to medical attention.” “Later, there's work to be done
here and people worse off than me. I'm needed here and in the now." Aussie
said. “True you’re needed here and in the now, but needed healthy and with a
clear head. I'm betting you’re gonna be feeling a concussion before too long.
“Michael explained. ” I'll cross that bridge when I come
to it. “Aussie said stubbornly. Michael knew better than to argue with the man.
Once he had his mind set on something he could be as stubborn as a dwarf. With
things aboard Phobias the way they were, Michael figured everyone would be on
edge and running with adrenaline pumping for a while. Looking over
Michaels shoulder Aussie shouted, “Get that loader away from the fire! Pointing
to a stationary loader packed tight with several cargo containers loaded with
power cells. Quick stepping a young technician hurried up onto the lift powered
it up and began backing away. In a hurry the young man turned the loader
towards a docking ramp intending to head down the hatchway corridor into a
cargo bay away from the fire. Focusing on the turn the man didn't see a slight
ledge off to the side. With a wheel catching hold it proved too much a dip for
the lift causing the whole lift to heel over spilling the power cells and it's
unfortunate driver onto the launch way. Power cell's tumbling, some broke open
spilling complex chemicals and gas while others simply bounced several times
before rolling thankfully to a stop. Michael swore he hear several auditable
exhales from nearby tech personals. “D****t!” Aussie groaned, “As if I ain’t
got enough already." Taking another look Michael noticed that the majority
of techs were young and most looking a bit unsure of themselves or simply
lost. “Where’s your core personal?" he
asked. “ Probably dead, working on other
sections of the ship or so badly wounded they no good. “Came the aggravated
reply. “Need an extra pair of hands?"
he offered. “No mate you've done your part in making sure were still alive,
this is my mess here, and I’ll handle it. ". After a moment he continued, “Where’s
Wildcat? " Seeing Michael blanch at the
mention of his copilot’s name Aussie saw there was no need to ask. In their
latest campaign the Kilrathi Empire had stepped up the pressure on taking down
confederation pilots instead of capital ships. In an effort to deplete FleetCom
of it's more experienced pilots the empire was looking to gain a major
advantage over the human confederation. With new and unseen fighter tactics the
cats had developed and put into their flight training program, the cats were
gaining ground across the front as Confed veteran pilots began to become
scarce. In a losing effort FleetCom academies had been hard pressed to step up
training speed having to sacrifice flight maneuver training in an effort to get
cadiets up to pace on the cats battle tactics while still developing
countermeasures to the empires newest fighter tactics. As an end result, hot
young rookies looking to make a name for themselves were trained faster but
with watered down flight and combat lessons and pushed to the front line, with
most dying before trading out their yellow uniforms. Veterans across front line systems
where put through emotion hell putting many on a long term emotional guilt
trip. “Ah, I'm sorry man. He was a good
kid.” he said grabbing Michaels shoulder. At hearing the word kid Michael
blanched again. “Ya, I didn't know him well
enough to make that call Dennis. Look I gotta debrief and write another death
letter." Michael said. “Look, don't be too hard on yourself.
Hear me? “ “Ya, loud and clear." Michael
said halfheartedly moving past the man and down the scaffold ramp. Dennis knew
better than to push the issue when a man was under stress and it was clear to
him that Michael was under a lot at the moment. Exiting the ramp Michael’s nose
was assaulted by an ugly thick toxic fume that had him coughing instantly.
Covering his mouth with his sleeve he looked back over his shoulder at Aussie.
“Hydro coolant that's burning from the chemical fires. Short term exposure
won’t leave any permanent damage, though if you get too much you'll have a
nasty cough for a while. Smoking is a walk in the part compared to what this
I’ll do to your lungs after a couple years." Aussie hollered. Nodding in
understanding Michael watched him disappear into his cockpit. Heading through
the hanger bay he saw it was in far worse condition then when on the ramp.
Debris and ship wreckage littered the hanger. Fires were sprouting everywhere
mixed in with shouts and orders being thrown about from the various med and
tech crews. As he approached the hatchway doors an alarm wailed in warning
stealing his attention. Turning he caught sight of a Hornet coming in on a land
approach touch down on the runway heading into the ship’s deck way. Two heavy
steel cables located on the runway were used to grab the landing legs of
fighters performing landing operations slowing their descent into the deck way.
The cables had grabbed hold of the Hornets leg's going taunt but where damaged
and had broke before they had stretched enough to slow the fighter. Personal
shouted and a frantic rush ensued to get away as the fighter sped towards the
already damaged catch net. Breaking through the Hornet continued on crashing
into several parked Raptors. As the fighter plowed into a pair of
Raptors a new army of small explosions and grinding metal sounded in the
hanger. Frantic those who could rushed to the area in an attempt to rescue the
pilot. Michael thought to lend a hand but just watched the scene unfold.
Feeling indifferent he turned and walked through the hatchway doors. Entering
the corridor the toxic aroma instantly faded, through the wreckage did not.
Broken and tangled wire hung from the ceiling deck. Sparks shot forth were
exposed cables tapped together giving the corridor a heavy copper odor.
Sections of lighting panels flickered in an attempt to maintain life. Personal
were in a hurry with every man and work with a critical assignment that could
not wait. No one glanced his way nor paid him any attention. More teck personal
with mobile consoles, repair kits and spare parts seemed to dominate the
personal moving through the corridor. Michael blended in the rush working his
way to a turbo lift which was several yards away. Nearing the lift he made out
two cadets already at the lift with one repeatedly press the service button.
Cadet’s sported high yellow flight uniforms for the first thirty days in
service no matter what carrier or capital ship they entered in Confed Navy.
Both looked young and cocky, Michael noted. “Come on, come on." one
said still pressing the button. After a moment the door began to slide open
only to stop half way. “Good enough for me." said the youth sliding
through though barely. Two other crew technicians were in the lift. Both
their uniforms unlike the cadets showed signs of stains, dried blood and sweat.
The two personal looked exhausted. Michael was the last to enter. Upon
Michael’s entrance the same cadet began to roughly press a level button. After
several seconds nothing happened. “Worthless piece of junk carrier. “The cadet
growled banging hand against the button. Annoyed Michael reached over in front
of him pressing and holding the level button then releasing. “Level D12
confirmed." came the automated reply.
“Ya sad really." the second
agreed. The two crew members in the lift bristled at comment; their pride
clearly stung but said nothing. The cocky attitudes of both ensin’s and their
total lack of regard for the surprise attack or the carrier’s crippled
condition struck a nerve in Michael. Clenching his fist he was determined to
mind his business and stay out of it. Continuing the second asked, " Oh
ya? How long you think it'll take you to get first place in combat kills in
this scrap feast?" "Real combat or simulation?" the first asked.
"Real combat.” the second answered. “From what I've seen here most
these guys, should be in wheelchairs or at least making room for us on the way
up. I’m surprised they held off that assault, really. Lucky I didn’t get the
chance to launch. I’d have soon these old timers how to win a battle. I mean
don’t get me wrong, they done their job, but obviously not well enough or
we would have won this war by now. Time for grandpa's and grandma's to step
aside for pilot's who can get the job done.” the first said arrogantly, not
evening bothering to lower his voice. Michael felt a hot sweat break in his
hands and feel his nostrils flare up. He was a Lieutenant and an officer. Both
seemed blind to this fact. The patornizing cockyness these ensin’s were
displaying seemed to be quickly growing into outright arrogance that had
Michael’s blood close to being on fire. “I mean come on these guys barely
fended off a Kilrathi attack, and look at the condition of this p.o.s, it's on
its last leg. I bet i can thump my finger against the hull and this bucket will
fall apart. Hell, I'm surprised captain didn't call an abandon ship during the
fight." “Ya, good point if you can't get the job done movie side for their
betters, and let them handle the rougher jobs." the second agreed. “That
or end up dead in space.. “The first whispered lowly, but not lowly enough that
Michael didn’t hear it. Spinning Michael grabbed the first by his throat hard
slamming him against the wall. “Hey! What the hell!", the
second yelled grabbing Michael’s shoulder. Not even looking over his shoulder,
Michael caught the cadet with a sharp elbow in the nose. Blood splattered on
the young man's face bowing him over. Back kicking, Michael gave the man a
sharp shot to the man's throat, sending him crashing against the turbo lift
wall and into a fit of choked coughing. Not forgetting the first he gave big
mouth a hard head but in his forehead while tightening his grip. The man went
limp against the turbo lift wall but Michael held him prone against it.
"Shut your mouth, just shut your mouth!” he shouted. “Stupid know nothing
pleebs," he continued seething, not letting up on the semi-conscious
rookie." I've been on this carrier for three years. Three years of new
wannabe hotshots like you getting blown to nothing before they can even trade
out their uniforms. Three years of writing unending death letters. Three years
of having to train Kilrathi counter tactics to stupid known it all pleebs
looking to make a name for themselves, out here." Seeing the youths face
begin to turn blue he eased up on his hold allowing a pinch of oxygen to seep
through. “Where were you when we old timers were out there fighting? Where you
were when my friends and comrades were out there sacrificing their lives for
everyone here." Leaning in close he whispered, “I watched two
confederation pilots run their ships into oncoming torpedoes. Men and women
with families. Would you do that? ““They gave their lives for us!" he
shouted in the man's face. Feeling a fresh surge of rage Michael badly wanted
to slam the rookie into the wall again but thought better of it knowing nothing
good would come of it, seeing he had the man scared half to death. Looking back
Michael saw the second rookie getting his breathing under control and returned
Michael’s look with one of furious anger. “Aww, what's wrong? Pride stung that
an old fart like me took down two academy hotshot's without breaking a sweat?
“He, taunted. ” Lucky I'm not one the kitties were
up against. All I'd half to do is flex my claws and your friend’s throat would
be hanging down to the floor. “Pride clearly stung big mouth's friend looked
away and continued to nurse his broken nose and bruised ego. Turning his attention back to
big mouth, Michael continued, “You watch what you say and who you say it to on
this ship. If your flying skills are anything like your attitude then I'm sure
I'll be writing another death letter, soon. The way you’re going though I'm
sure you’re gonna make a lot of friends among us grandpa’s, I don't even see
the kittens taking you out." he said grinning. Michael slammed the young
man hard one more time to emphasis his point before releasing his grip. Turning
Michael saw the turbo lift door was open and several people had been watching
the situation with curiosity. Ignoring their stares, he glanced at the two
technicians both of which gave him nods of approval while ignoring the rookies.
Moving out the lift the onlookers made way for him, as he entered another
wrecked and damaged hallway. It wasn't long before he found the pilot's locker
room. Entering and approaching the console next to the hatchway door he coded
both doors to lock upon closing. The room sported one hundred full
sized lockers sectioned off in two square quarters. Centered in the room were
several full on weight sets, a nutrition table with the latest in legalized
steroids and testosterone enhancements, for those who wanted to burn off the
stress of war. Six white metal tables sat opposite each side of the weights.
Most had a mess of things atop which pilots had left. Several had half eaten
meals left, from when the alarm sounds they were under direct attack. Behind
the weights two walls could be seen sprouting forth from both sides of the
locker room. Stainless steel shower heads could stood further back. All were
empty. The room was dead of life, exactly what Michael wanted. Moving to his
locker he sat on the bench and entered his code and was rewarded.when his
locker popped open. A digital light switched from red to green unlocking. Not
opening the locker he just stared at it. Shutting his eyes he began to rub his
temple. "Well Mikey I'd say you could
have handled that better." he heard a voice say. “I locked the door. “He
said not looking up. “Ya you did, but I have something
called security override." the voice answered, teasingly. "Now's not
a good time.” he said still not looking up. “Saw there was some excitement
at the turbo lift." came the response ignoring Michael’s statement.
Exhaling Michael looked towards the hatchway doors to see Squadron Leader Lisa
Vasquez a.k.a Lily leaning casually back against the hatchway doors with arms
crossed over a very tight and generous chest. At five foot six with long auburn
hair and chestnut brown eyes and a matching skin tone she was by far an exotic
woman. Added with a slim figure she was sported thick pouty lips that gave most
men a double take when first seeing her. Compliments of her Hispanic heritage,
that gave many a man desire for her that many were hard pressed to ignore. She
was also a planet jumper and marine soldier before transferring services,
preferring the comfort of a combat ship over the land and surface terrain
battles the war dogs and planet jumpers were known for. As Squadron Leader and
top pilot of Phobias’s Hornet fighter class her pilot skills where on par with
her marine hand to hand combat skills. Having served for six years she was one
of the most capable and confident pilots aboard. When Michael had first signed on with
Phobias’s it had been Lisa who'd taken him under her wing and shown him the
ropes out along the front line and tactics the cats loved to use in combat.
Being wise enough to listen and learn Michael knew that he wouldn't have
survived if not for her guidance. He owed her his life on more than one
occasion. The two had been poker rivals when he first came aboard and learned
the officers lounge hosted poker tournaments for Confed credits. But Kilrathi
artifacts and cultural items from different systems where hot prizes up
for grabs, since little to nothing was known about their home world.
Independent researchers and scholars outside the confederation influence would
pay handsomely for anything of Kilrathi origin with combat technology being at
the top tier. Any items normally found or salvaged by civilians were normally
confiscated by FleetComm Sector Security known as the F.S.S. or system militia.
It was well known that a growing gap between freelance privateers, merchants
and F.S.S had been developing over the issue. The competition had been fierce
at first between the pair, with one trying to bluff or outwit the other.
It wasn't long before the two had developed a deep friendship that often
happened with soldiers under the harsh stresses of war. Wearing a pair of desert
terrain combat pants tucked into her boots and a plain white tee shirt, Lisa
filled her outfit well to the pleasured view of almost any man aboard Phobias.
He noted that she bore several bruises and scars on her arms probably received
during the Kilrathi's initial assault on Phobias. “We just barely survive an
undetected Kilrathi assault that crippled Phobias and you want to play on a
treadmill?" Michael observed. “A woman has to keep her figure in shape for
you boys, no other reason I wouldn't be here now would there.” she said
winking. Michael scoffed dropping his gaze to the floor. “I take it you weren't out
there." “No such luck." she said. “Runway took several direct
hits. Made it impossible for us to launch. You guys saved our asses." she
stated. “Ya.” he said. A slight look of concern fell
over Lisa’s face. “So Mikey, you going to tell me what's going on? I saw your
face when you let that noob go. You looked pretty pissed.” she stated. “The guy was running his mouth
about pilots and Phobias." Michael explained. “Doesn’t every pleeb do the
same when they first come aboard? If memory serves, I recall a couple of
hotshot remarks from yourself when you first dropped your duffel bag
here." Moving off the hatchway door
Lisa came up to lean against his locker. “How many did we lose."he asked
hoping to change the topic. “No official count yet but we took a beating for
sure. I'd say from how empty the hanger is close to thirty or forty.",
``she answered. Before he even realized what he was doing Michael slammed his
fist into a nearby locker giving it a fair sized dent. “That’s almost half our fighter
force.” he growled. Ignoring the locker Lisa sat down next to him. “What happened? This is not the
norm for you, so talk to me. " she said. She knew him too well he knew. And it
would be pointless to avoid the issue. Marines, especially this one were known
for their persistence and stubbornness. “That’s number seven for me. The guy
was barely aboard, and still green. He wouldn't stick to my wing; the cats had
major pressure on the carrier. We picked up a mayday and orders to take out
some bombers that were making runs on Phobias. Ronnie went in an asteroid belt
pursuing some Jalathi that were trying to be sneaky. He got a couple of Krants
on him. I took one down but it wasn't enough. Ronnie got caught up on the
remaining Krant. A missile came out of nowhere taking an asteroid apart. He
didn’t see it and i couldn’t raise him on the comm’s, there was nothing I could
do. I couldn't save him.” he explained. “You didn't raise him on comm?” she
asked. “Fried”, he said.” And the Kilrathi
had already taken out our support. Not another Confed fighter within twenty
clicks. His blood is on my hands.” Michael said. Lisa's visage softened slightly
putting a hand on his shoulder. “Hey Mikey I'm sorry.” she offered. “It doesn’t
really matter.” he said shrugging, not meeting her eyes. “Just one more death letter I'll half
to write to grieving parents I'll never meet trying to explain how courageous
their dead son was. Dead because he was stupid, when it was actually my
stupidity that got him killed. ". Lisa's softened visage changed almost
instantly to a scowl with a hard lined edge running across her jaw. "Oh get off your pot
Michael. Everything isn't about you.” she scolded. "What?” he said surprised. “Quit
feeling sorry for yourself. You sound like you’re a first year flight goober. We
fight and die out here every day against the Kilrathi. It's a hard price
to pay, but it’s part of our job." she said. Caught off guard by Lisa's sudden
change in attitude, Michael wasn't sure how to respond. “That’s insensitive and
closed minded.” he said after a moment. “No more insensitive and selfish than
you feeling sorry for yourself.” she scolded. With his pride and ego stirring
Michael met her eyes for the first time. “Oh ya?” he flared. “You try living
with the fact that seven lives, seven people died under your command. All in
less than a year. People with families, People who I was responsible for." To his complete surprise and
utter fury she began to laugh at him. “You think this is funny?" he asked,
face turning red. Lisa subsided a little before
answering, “That young men and women gave their lives against a brutal and
unforgiving enemy. No. I was laughing at you. “ He could hardly believe he was
hearing this. “You think you’re the only one who's
lost men under your command? Undeserving horrible deaths and everyone who was a
part of their lives feels their loss. You’re not going through anything anyone
else has gone through and have no right to sit on your pity pot when your a*s
is needed in the cockpit setting a good example.", she said. “Fair enough," he said
with an edge to his voice, " but I've lost seven men due to my
incompetence. All in less than a year. It won't be long before I start to
second guess every decision I make. Inside and outside the cockpit." “Did you order him to break from your
wing? Did you say go off on your own and take on a handful of Kilrathi fighters
and prove what a hotshot you’re going to be? Oh! Wait, Ronnie did that all on his
own because your com system was toast and you couldn't send any transmissions.
Hmm, yup, you’re totally to blame and should never forgive yourself and live
with the guilt for the rest of your days or until one day you decide it's too
much and you take your own life, Lisa explained. “Nobody likes a smartass."
Michael stated. “Nobody likes a crybaby neither.” she
countered. “Look Mikey, I'm not trying to be cold hearted. I know you’re going
through a lot right now. Hell I've been there. Lost close friends and new
trainees that were my responsibility. My oldest just graduated from flight
school and is soon to be shipped out. More than likely to the front lines. I
haven't slept since she told me, but if she dies fighting for what she's
believed in, then it's not a wasted death. It's a hard pill to swallow and it's
bitter going down. But, don't dishonor his memory and what he and others have
died for by taking blame for it. Weather your fault or not. Honor them, by
keeping alive the hope of what they fought for. Don't let their deaths dwell on
you. It will consume you and given enough rope destroy you. Fact is Mikey,
Ronnie made a stupid choice and paid for it with his life. That's a common
price out here, mistakes cost us against the Kilrathi. “ Michael knew that Lisa had kids but
she had never gone too deep with him about them even with their friendship.
Looking into her soft features he gave her a look of gratitude. It may not have
been what he wanted to hear, but he'd learned early on that with Lisa it
was often what he needed to hear. Taking a deep breathe he said,
“Your right, how'd you get such a tough attitude?". " I used to bang my drill
sergeant back in basic..", Lisa shrugged pointedly. Unable to control himself Michael
busted out laughing, throwing his hands up. “D****t! I didn't need to hear
that! “He said still choking on his chuckles Smiling she said, “Be glad you
didn’t half to see it. Told me I was so good he let me graduate two weeks
ahead of class. Shaking his head Michael didn't know whether she was
being serious or joking. With Lisa, it was impossible to tell most of the
time. Her tone turning serious, “You going
to be okay Michael?" “Yea I'll push through it in
time, just need a hot shower and a couple hours sleep. “He said. Lisa's eyes sparkled at the mention
of shower. “I like the way you think. I'm sure there are some interesting
things we could do in the shower.” she said smiling. Michael knew she was teasing.
Both depended on each other in more ways than one they were more than comrades
or crewmates; they were friends supporting one another in a harsh and stressful
war which the outcome wasn't known. He had never made any advances on her even
though she was exceptionally beautiful. And were many men aboard had tried and
failed. Michael didn't want to take their friendship in a direction were they
both might feel awkward after. She seemed grateful that she could drop her
guard around him and be herself without worrying if he would try any anything
on her. Michael had soon found she was a witty, caring, strong, and loyal
friend. “Sorry my friend I only do blondes." Pouting her lips in mock
disappointment, she said, “And I'm out of hair dye. Probably for the best. Last
thing we need is Captain or the Commander walking in here and find our naked
asses bouncing to and fro." “Christ Lisa! Do you have any
boundaries?”Michael exclaimed, throwing his hands up. “What?", she asked
innocently. At that moment the hatchway doors
opened to reveal a senior staff member walking in and stealing their
attention. “Michael Fanin?"he asked. “Yes sir.” Michael said standing. “Commander Wedgeworth wants you
in her office,” he said. Michael shot a quick glance at Lisa. “Sir, I just touched down. I
was fixing to head to debrief and catch up on a needed shower." “No time; Wedgeworth wants you in her
office--pronto." "Damn the luck.” Lisa said
snapping her
fingers.
TNN ( Terrean Network News) Prime Minister Spaulding met with Confed Inspectors today taking
them on a tour of the refineries hit by pirates showing the damage done by the
attacks and what resources were looted. FleetCom Inspectors toured
several locations and held long discussions with Spaulding and his staff about
what Confed would do to assist Riley defense forces to easy up the pressure
from the pirates and locate their base of operations. Inside sources confirm
Spaulding was insistent that FleetCom should send a full fleet for defense and
maintaining security in Riley, claiming that mining operations where of vital
importance to Confederation military operations throughout the quadrant but
also in the war effort against the Kilrathi. Officials instantly rejected the
proposal claiming that In-System Planetary Security was responsible for such a
task and no fleet action would be shifted to Riley at this time. Confed
officials did however state they would set up contracts for mercenaries and
freelance privateers offering security detail for the time being. Sources
report, Spaulding scoffed at such an idea knowing well the rumors and
reputation of the Merc guilds demanding Confed forces play a bigger role in the
defense of the Riley systems. For the time being it looked like Mercenary
operations will be the best role the Confederation will offer, despite protests
from Spaulding and the Confederation Mineral Administration.
Kilrathi
SOLDIER ( KILRA ‘ HRA) “Open your eyes cub.” said the
voice. Despite Rral'Mek's best efforts,
darkness continued to dwell in Rral'Mek's vision. “Open your eyes.” the voice
repeated harshly. "Open them prr’chos, and
do nothing to bring dishonor to the trail." At hearing prr'chos, Rral'Meks
eye's fell back under his control snapping open to reveal him standing next to
his father amidst densely beautiful jungle. Lush trees rose high from richly
grass covered ground into the air. There magnifying branches intertwining
through each other. Deep auburn and orange leaves spotted the branches so heavily
it all but blocked out the blue rich sky. He could barely make out twin
suns dawning the skyline. Thickly decorated bushes sprouted from the nutrition
rich soil, their leaf's equally beautiful overlapping one another in an array
of yellow, blue and neon purple. The air washed with a heavy layer of different
scents that burned Rral'Mek's nose with pure curiosity. To him it was beautiful
to behold. “What is this place? “He asked his
father who stood next to him. “Silence prr'chos! Do nothing
or say nothing until told so, his father snapped, causing Rral'Mek to cringe. His father was of the Ti' Gros
breed, a warrior class and head of his clan. His body bore proudly the scars of
fierce battles fought against rivals in combat for mating rights or over merger
resources found on their homeworld. Patches of his father's dark orange and black
fur could be seen missing as was one of his eyes torn out in a brawl during his
youth. Large claw scars dotted his upper body; he'd made no attempt to hide
them under his dirty and torn tunic. One fang bore a large chip while the other
sported large cracks, a sign among the Kilrathi of advanced age. Despite these
aged injuries Rral'Mek’s father neither bore nor allowed any signs of weakness
to show. The two stood in clearing within the jungle. Scanning the area, his
eyes caught sight of a transport ship in the distance. His youthful vision made
out three figures approaching from a nearby transport at an easy pace. " The elders come. We are close
to elevating our status bringing honor and a better life to our clan. There can
be no mistakes prr'chos. Do not fail in your task; else I bring the news to
your mother that your pathetic blood was spilled by my claws for a failed
attempt to show our strength in our hour of honor. Prove you are worthy to own
your life I allowed you.” his father said coldly. Ears flattened; shame coursed
through his body at being called prr'chos. Prr' chos were the weakest and last
born of Kilrathi litters. Their blood thin bodies were frail and most often
times overly small. They were the runts, disdained and unwanted wretches among
the Kilrathi Empire. Runts born of any caste, fell victim to the Char' Risst
Kar, a duty given to house leaders. Throats torn wide open before their
eyes open, the runts were thrown away with abandonment. It was the duty of the
house leader, making sure the runts were dead in efforts to keep bloodlines
pure and strong for the best possible warriors to be bred. Those rare few who
did survive were entitled to nothing but a harsh life, with no hope of honor.
Rral'Mek had almost fell victim to this fate, if not for his father finding out
a mate he had taken was of noble birth. She was of one of the six major clans
with in the empire and had attended one of the trails. Seeing his father's
prowess as a warrior the two had met with Rral'Mek's father's intentions clear.
Being of a high rank no one in her clan had dared questioned or spoke of their
breeding. His litter was a result of their brief union. His birth and bloodline
had spared him this travesty, at his mother’s insistence, threatening her clan
would slaughter all members of his small house if he performed the Char'Risst
Kar on any of her newborns. Once every decade major and clans of the
Kilrathi would attend the dead worlds offering a step up and out of brutal
environment of dead world existence. But they had to prove worthy. Houses existed at the bottom of the
food chain. Bred on dead world planets, every day was a day of grueling
existence, scavenging for basic resources, warring with rival s, or enduring
the brutal elements. Minor and the ruling clans within the empire would
systematically send supply ships loaded with much needed life giving bounty to
the dead worlds but in various locations, thus forcing long and dangerous
treks to reach the supplies. Fights between houses over first rights were
a common occurrence on the dead worlds since water and food were almost
nonexistent. Rral'Mek remembered well cannibalism had past the day on more than
one occasion. Weather on dead worlds was always an agonizing heat that never
ended. Night offered little relief; since dead worlds were always overly close
to the sun. None but the nastiest form of planet life could exist there and had
little to no use other than scraps of clothing. The dead worlds were tortuous form of
existence for any species to endure. It was all centered on culling the best
possible warriors from the strongest and most blood lusting warriors for the
empire. There was no room for the weak or frail. "Kerr' Rost, your house
has done well. We are well pleased. Your clan continues to show great promise.”
one of the elders said approaching. Instantly Kerr'Rost kneeled while
flattening his ears in submission. When Rral'Mek didn't follow suit, his father
issued a low threatening hiss. Kneeling and flattening his ears quickly,
Rral'Mek lowered his head, but kept his eyes on the elders which stood several
yards away. All three were of the Li' onist
breed. Large and powerfully built. They wore clothes of fine linen mixed with
gem studded vests covered by a platinum and gold robe with their house insignia
displayed proudly over various spots. Silver claw sheaths covered there claws
and feeding partly up to their paws. Multiple ear rings covered their ears with
chains flowing down to clamp on their fangs which were polished to a crisp
white. Their fur was just as fine being smooth and sporting a glow about
them. A servant trailed behind each one of
them carrying what appeared to be a large covered container. Even from where he
stood he could smell rich delicious and fine drink within the containers. Rral'Mek
knew they must come from a powerful house and have the emperor's utmost favor
to dawn such clothing, food and drink openly. All three looked immaculate
compared to him and his father in their dirty and filthy tunics. “You honor our
clan with your words elder of clan Nar’ Kil 'Rot .", his father said.
“Rise Kerr' Rost, there is no need to continue homage so close to the end of
the trials. Your clan has more than proved itself-worthy of adoption. Its
integration into the Nar’ Kil'Rot lines is looked forward to with great
enthusiasm. We are privileged to grant the right of ascension.” the elder said
motioning with his paw. At rising and hearing the continuing praise Rral'Mek
heard a slight purr echo from his father's chest. “There is but one task to complete
and relatively easy." All three turned to stare at Rral'Mek, who suddenly
felt very small at the moment. One elder stepping closer bent down to examine
him. Sniffing he asked disgustedly, “A purr'chos?". Shame and insecurity
coursed through Rral'Mek under the elders gaze. Kerr'Rost's ears flattened
somewhat at the elder’s observation but said nothing to neither confirm nor
deny the accusation. “It matters not,” the lead elder of house Blood Fang said,
“The trials are nearly complete. So long as your cub completes this task then
your house will be adopted into our lines to our house's glory and to the honor
of the Kilrathi race." What task is to be set before us, my elder?”
Kerr'Rost asked. “A simple test of your youngest cub's prowess. Somewhere to the
north there is a herd of Char'Prit beasts. One of the younglings bears a golden
collar around its neck. Find this youngling and kill it's life-force, before
the twin suns reach their peak." Reaching inside his vest, the elder
removed a small pouch and tossed it to the ground next to Rral'Mek's feet. “A
patch of fur removed from the younglings fur to guide your pursuit son of Kerr'
Rost. Stunned at hearing his task Rral’Mek blandly reached down and retrieved
the pouch. Char'Prit beasts were large and powerful
herbivores that fed on the grassland. With a thick hide and two large tusks
that jutted out their cheeks and two large flat canines from their bottom jaw
they were perfect churning up the deep rooted grass, the beasts though were not
an easy kill for a cub. Kilrathi often rode them as weapons of sport chasing
down prisoners and running them through with their heavy bodies, or slicing
them open to die with their tusks. The beasts were overly protected of one
another and their young. To try and take down younglings was no easy feat he
knew. “Complete this task and your clan
will enter into our lines and much better life.” the elder finished. Kerr' Rost
said nothing to his son, but instead reaching into his tunic pulled forth his
Kin'Tarr blade. “No, your cub's claws and fangs
are to be his only weapons." Shuddering at hearing this Rral'Mek
looked to his father hoping he would forbid him this test. “My elder, this cub
is young and is not fitted yet for-", “He is of your lines is he
not?” the elder interrupted. A long moment passed before Kerr'Rost
answered, “He is my blood." “Then if he's anything like you
Kerr' Rost, he will complete the challenge and bring honor to your people by
fulfilling the task.” the elder said grinning, thus ending the discussion. Rral'Mek could feel his father's
anger at having to confirm his relation in front of the elders. His displeasure
was evident for all to see. It was obvious he could have preferred another of
his cubs for this task, but the trials called for the youngest of litter, and
no Kilrathi would break the tradition of the trials. Such a violation called
for the violator's life immediately. It was a death of dishonor that no
Kilrathi warrior would bare. Out from the transport a small circular drone
appeared and headed towards the group. “We will monitor your cub's
progress with this, and will watch from the comfort of our lodging. You are to
remain here until the trial is complete.", one elder explained. Looking down at his son
Kerr'Rost whispered, “You have heard your task, do not fail, least I spill
your blood before the eyes of your frail mother.” his father
warned. Heart hammering Rral'Mek began to
pant as the weight of his task sank in. "Enough! Time grows short.
Rral'Mek son of Kerr'Rost, complete your task and honor with a place of in Nar’
Kilrot is before you. Kill the calf, relish the feel of its warm blood
dripping from your fangs as your mark of hunter yet to come. GO!” the elder
boomed. With a mixture of excitement and fear
Rral'Mek raced off into the dense jungle, adrenaline racing through his body.
The drone matched his pace with little effort in its silent hovering around
him. It seemed as if the jungle came alive with life he couldn't see but his
sense of smell and hearing told him more than he could ever see. Moving through
the jungle his eyes scanned the ground for any signs of the beast's heavy
tracks. It was difficult to stay focused under the heavy assault of the jungle
smell's and animal life that had him pinged with excitement and curiosity. A
flock of some plump strange looking two winged two tailed multi-colored birds
startled into flight, hurried off the forest floor as Rral'Mek burst through a
heavy bush. He had to restrain himself from leaping up to snatch one in his
claws and making a meal out of the tasty looking treats. Hunting instincts on edge, he looked
in the area where the birds had been and noticed a small stream where the birds
had been enjoying the cool water. Moving to investigate his mind was focused on
how he was going to find any sign of the Char' Prit herd and how he was to slay
one, a young one with a protective mother close by to be sure. Pulling free the
pouch he sniffed at its contents. A strong musty odor assaulted his
nostrils causing a brief but harsh sneeze. Crouching down he froze staying idle
as several birds nearby squawked flying into the air. Aside from the sound of
the running stream nothing rewarding found him. Anxieties began to creep into
his thoughts. If he didn't find the herd by the allowed time then his clan
would fail the trials. The chance for a better life would be gone for another
decade and with it, his chance for honor and acceptance with his people. A
small shudder coursed through his body at remembering his father's words. With desperation beginning taking
hold, he sniffed the air again with hoping the cool breeze would bring him a
new direction. Nothing. A soft yowl of frustration escaped from his throat.
Suddenly from a nearby bush a medium sized rodent raced out, making a dash into
and across the stream splashing him, before disappearing into the jungle.
Startled Rral'Mek leaped into the air only to land knee deep in the stream.
Hissing in anger he kicked the water frustrated before sloshing out and shaking
off what he could from his matted fur. Without warning a thought dawned on him.
All animals needed water to survive. Eyes wide with at the revelation, he shook
his damp legs and ran off into the jungle following the stream. Lungs and heart
pumping he caught hold of a thick low hanging branch and swung up following the
tree limb into the dense jungle. Luck was with him as the monstrous limb
intertwined with others allowing him to elevate his climb higher while
following the course of the stream. As Rral'Mek continued his course he climbed
higher as the branches’ would allow him to give him the best vantage view.
Having no clue as to how much time had passed, but judging by the twin suns’
raising higher in the crystal sky it was running short. He would earn his father's approval
with this kill, he told himself. Today he would prove worthy of being a
Kilrathi. Today he would prove his bloodline. Today he would prove his hunter.
Up ahead he saw a slight gap between the branches’. Picking up speed he began
to pant as his foot claw’s dug into the slick and mosey tree bark. With a short
growl Rral'Mek leap off one branch high into the air while reaching out for the
nearby branch. Claw's grasping hold he felt his paw begin to slip on the moss.
Grasping hold with the other claw he pulled himself up and onto the branch all
but with the shortest of breaks. Continuing on his course Rral'Mek gazed down
and saw that not only was he a far height up, but the stream was growing in
width, an indication that he might be getting close. Char' Prit's, had a special
love of water and even when the weather was cool were known to bask in ponds
and by lake shorelines. If his guess was right, it was only a
matter of time before he found the herd. Sure enough a heavy watery mist began
to flow into his nose. Ears perking up he caught the faint sound of several
animal's bellowing off in the distance. Stopping, Rral'Mek took a moment
catching his breath, while his ear's scanned the area up ahead for any repeat
bellows. Several bellows and the sound of splashing water answered his ears.
Blood racing and instincts on edge Rral'Mek crept slowly along the branch with
his eye's following the stream which up ahead disappeared into several thick
bushes’. As Rral'Mek crept closer he crouched down on his belly moving behind
pair a small branches offering him some slight concealment. The stream had lead
into a fair sized pond with which was almost overloaded with Char'Prit.
Scanning the area Rral'Mek did a quick mental count and thought it came close
to several hundred at least. He had to stop himself from yowling, knowing his
task had now just become way more challenging. He knew this was the herd. The
calf was down there somewhere. His view from up high gave him an excellent view
of the entire herd yet being able to single out one among several hundred, and
a calf at that, was like trying to find a need in a haystack. Calves were
everywhere, he noted, some playing in the water, others nursing, and some
staying close by their protective mothers which where grazing on the rich mossy
grass in the water. Creeping closer, Rral'Mek dared to
stick his head barely past the leafs in an attempt at a better look. Removed
from the shade, sunlight beamed down over him, a harsh and uncomfortable sting
assaulted his eye's forcing him to squint. In the water, several bright
glittery flashes’ caught his attention. Luck was with him, spotting his prey
amidst almost a dozen other's playing in the pond. Judging the distance
Rral'Mek guessed the calf was at least twenty yards away if not more. To make
matters worse, several adult Char' Prit's loomed not far off watching them with
a protective eye. Claw's raking the tree bark anxiously Rral'Mek had no idea
how could strike at the beast without alerting the adults. Even if he did
manage to lock his fangs around the youth, he knew he would stand no chance at
fending off its mother. Watching the calf's splash in play he knew his time was
drawing close to an end. Up high both suns would soon be at their high point of
the day. His only chance would to launch himself onto the calf and lock his
fangs around its neck while dragging it down into the watery depths drowning
it. If he could keep it submerged while choking he could stop the beast’s life
force and complete his challenge proving himself. It would be a far leap
indeed, even from his elevated position from up high. He would only get one
shot. If he missed, the younglings would scatter back to their mother's
protective sides. Crawling back, Rral'Mek made sure to ingrain his prey's
location in his memory. There would be no second chance. Closing his eyes, he took
several deep breaths concentrating on the necessary steps. Claws gripped tight
into the tree, he burst off as fast as he could know this would be a far leap.
Heart in overdrive he ran along the tree branch headed for the bush.
Approaching the bush Rral'Mek let loose a roar of challenge. Seconds before he charged
through his concealment in the tree's making his leap, the elder's camera drone
flew past him stealing his focus and attention. Slipping on the limb tree
Rral'Mek lost his balance tumbling off the side. Crashing into several large
branches’ Rral'Mek face slammed into a particularly oversized limb causing one
of his fangs’ to painfully break loose. Hitting several more branches’ Rral'Mek
took a multitude of hard blows before coming to rest on the jungle floor. The
turmoil of noise caused shear panic in the herd as bellows of alarm echoed all
around. Younglings broke from the water churning the clear blue into a muddy
brown, scrambling to their mother's which were racing into the water in the
direction of the nose. Wheezing with every breath, he tasted phlegm and other
liquids in his mouth and felt it running out his nose. He tried to move his arm
only to have a fiery pain course through his body which intensified with every
growing moment. Knowing that several parts of his body were damaged or broken
he couldn't move on his own power. Closing his eyes Rral'Mek tried not
to focus on his wrecked body or his failure but drifted blissful arms of exhaustion.
Time seemed to pass too soon before he heard the sound of his father's voice
amidst others. Opening his eyes he saw his father standing over his broken
body. “Father, I tried.” he managed
painfully. Kerr' Rost said nothing, but instead
put his foot paw over Rral'Meks face darkening his view, and making breathing
more painful. “Your cub has failed, Kerr"
Rost, perhaps your house bloodlines are not what we thought they were",he
heard an elder say. “My elder, I offer my personal
apology for the prr'chos's failure. Do not hold the whole of my house in this
judgment based off this offal weakness.” Kerr'Rost said. “The judgment is proven true by your
youth’s incompetence. If not for him you and your house would now commence to
clan Nar Kil'Rot earning its place among the clans of the empire. Your
house is only as strong as your least." A groan of pain escaped from
Rral'Mek. Ignoring his cry Kerr'Rost pressed his foot paw harder onto
Rral'Mek's face digging in his claws. “Purge your bloodlines Kerr'Rost and
maybe we will continue our interest in your house.", the elder said
looking down at Rral'Mek. Removing his foot paw Kerr 'Rost none to gentle
picked up Rral'Mek by the fur behind his neck letting him dangle off the
ground. Pain flooded his body lighting up like Christmas lights. “I offer you
his life as a token of my houses loyalty to your clan. Take his life and remiss
your judgment on my house, noble elder." Kerr' Rost pleaded. “You offer unproven blood to me
Kerr'Rost?” the elder asked disgustedly. “I would not dishonor my fangs with
such a weak offer. My judgment stands.” he said waving his paw dismissively.
Turning the lead elder headed back into the jungle leaving Rral'Mek with
Kerr'Rost. “Father, the drone distracted me, I
had the kill within my claws.” Rral'Mek said weakly. Kerr'Rost said nothing but
instead extended his razor sharp claws. A throaty snarl followed. “I would
feast on your blood if only to spit it out purr'chos. You would know death, but
no death is too weak a punishment for you." Kerr' Rost mused . All
Rral'Mek could do was flatten his ears at his father's degrading
comments. “Instead, wear your shame openly
purr'chos. You have shamed your people. A lifelong badge for all to see, your
mark and place among your people, young offal." Kerr'Rost stated. With one
claw Kerr'Rost put a deep slash atop Rral'Mek's head slicing down his eye and
crossing the bridge of his nose. He barely felt his father's claw. The far
deeper wound echoed in his mind. Shamed his people." Find your own way
back purr'chos or stay here and let death take you. Either way you are of
non-existence to your people. Broken and bleeding he lay on the ground looking
towards to Kerr'Rost. Eyes shut he wished his father would have ended his life
right then, but knew better. He knew that in allowing him to live, Kerr'Rost
had given him a far greater punishment. * * * * * * TRANSPORT SHIP EN ROUTE TO Phobias CARRYING ONE Kilrathi PRISONER
OF WAR.
Eye's
snapping open, Rral'Mek awoke just in time to catch the butt end of a blaster
rifle smash into his nose, causing an eruption of blood. Snarling in pain
Rral’Mek found himself in a large, dark, room with a human soldier. Instantly
he leaped forward, only to be pulled back short by a chain which was bolted
into a wall. “Hey
Hemby! Kitties awake!`` he heard one human a groutese and overweight
looking human say but didn't understand. His colleague--a frail and thin
looking specimen like most humans Rral’Mek had seen--gave off a frightened and
timid appearance--The appearance of prey. His
flight suit and armorants had been stripped and replaced by a white jumper that
reeked of a musty urine like odor. Trying to move, he felt a heavy iron collar
cuffed around his neck, with his paws locked into the collar also behind his
neck. Feeling the back of the collar he felt a large and heavy chain which he
guessed fed into the wall and was preventing him from reaching the human.
Laughing, the human swung his blaster rifle again smashing it into Rral'Mek's
jaw. Anger coursed through his blood at the man’s cowardly strikes. Blood swam
in his jaw from the blow. Pain also thumped from several bruise’s atop his
head, leaving him to suspect the human had struck him several times while he
was unconscious. Just
then a second human entered his view. Even though the area was dark Rral'Mek
could see in the dark almost as well as in the light. Behind the pair he could
make out several dozen large containers of some kind. He was suspected he was
in some kind of cargo room. Both soldiers’ wore blue uniforms sporting large
blaster rifles and bore armor vests and padding. Neither looked very
intimidating to him. “We shouldn't be doing this Jerrod. If Leeba catches us in
here he'll tie our butt hairs in a knot." "Screw Leeba! My wife and
kid were slaughtered by these freaks, and this is my payback." Jerrod said
spitting in Rral'Mek's face. Just hurry up, we need to get him to the
brig before we dock." Hemby said anxiously peeking over his shoulder
towards the cargo containers. “Stop
being a wuss, and keep watch!" Jerrod snapped. Shaking
his head Hemby said nothing but glancing back keep wary eye back towards the
racks loaded with various container and supply equipment. Jerod’s focus
returned to Rral’Mek. He stepped closer to the warrior cat, holding his blaster rifle. Eyes locked on the
human soldier Rral'Mek never broke contact watching the butt of the human
weapon slam painfully across his face. The next several blows came quick
and hard into his ribs causing him to hiss and cough in pain. Blood began
to seep from his nose accompanied by a harsh wheeze with every breath. “Kitties
got some balls." Jerrod said. “Let’s see how big they are." Grinning
he unzipped his pants and began to urinate on his battered prisoner. Roaring in
rage and fury Rral'Mek kicked and slashed with his foot paws towards his human
tormentor who remained out of reach. Laughing as he urinated on his prisoner
neither him nor Hemby took notice of the little red flashing light hidden up in
the ceiling recording everything. * * * * * Sargent
Dwayne Leba followed by two marines ran down the corridor hallway his blood
boiling. Reaching the hatchway door and finding it locked he quickly entered
his security code overriding the lock. Rushing through as the doors hissed open
the trio fell quietly into the darkness of the containers working their way to
the back of the room. Hiding behind a large supply crate Leeba motioned for
both marines to keep quiet. Just then a loud roar stole their attention.
Peeking out Leeba watched angrily as a marine, Jerrod he knew by name urinated
on his prisoner. A second marine, Hemby stood close by, watching nervously.
Anger flooded through him at the groustest sight. “What
in the blue blaze f**k is going on in here!” Leeba screamed jumping out from
behind the supply create. Jerrod cringed at the unexpected outburst instantly
pulling up his zipper up and partly through his exposed jewels. Screaming in
agony he stumbled forward within reach of Rral'Mek. Taking
full advantage of his captors suffering, Rral'Mek took Jerod's pain to a whole
new level, kicking out with a muscled leg catching Jerrod in the groin.
Crumpling to the ground Jerod curled up in the fetal position screaming. In
view of the assault one marine trained his blaster rifle on Rral'Mek. "Hold
fire, d****t!", Leeba ordered. Hemby
stood in utter shock at Leeba's entrance. “Sir,
we we-", “Shut
up!", Leeba yelled rushing up to the man’s face. “Your
orders were to take him to the brig, not beat him to death! " “Sir,
he's a Kilrathi.", Hemby protested as if that alone gave was enough
permission. “I
don't give a damn!.", Leeba said angrily. Looking towards the supply
create he continued," Get a med team in here now! “Both
marines came into view one pulling out his comm and radioing for medical personnel,
while the second went over to assist Jerrod who was struggling to his feet.
" Leave him," Leeba said. Pointing to Hemby he continued," Cuff
him and throw him the brig. Hemby went white at Leeba's orders. “You
and he are going up on charges Conduct unbecoming of a Confederation marine,
disobeying orders and torture of an extraterrestrial species. If I can make
them stick you two will be dishonorably discharged with possible brig
time." With
effort Jerrod rose half-way up on two shaky legs," You some kind of cat
lover, Serge?" he managed. Unaware
he was still in Rral'Mek's range; Rral'Mek lashed out with another foot paw
catching him again in his devastated jewels. Another agonizing scream sung from
Jerod's lips as he fell back to the floor. Stepping over Jerod, Leeba did a
quick inspection of Rral'Mek's wounds. Battered and bruised, a harsh wheeze
accompanied with bubbled blood surfacing on Rral'Mek's nose. “D****t.",
Leeba swore, “Get him out of here.", He
motioned to Hemby. As the marine took Hemby out the cargo hold, the pair pasted
two med techs both carrying medical cases. Both saw Jerod curled on the ground
rocking. “No, tend to the prisoner first.” The serge ordered, seeing them move
in his direction. The two med's glanced at Leeba who remained stone faced,
before moving over to Rral'Mek. "Uhh,
he smells like piss," one of the techs complained. Seeing
the two humans approach, Rral'Mek gave a wheezing hiss in warning. “Wait.”
Leeba said, halting the two med techs. Stepping ahead of them, he withdrew a
small device from his utility belt. Standing out of Rral'Mek's range Leeba made
eye contact with Kilrathi and drew his attention to the remaining marine with
his blaster trained on him. Holding up the small device he stepped up the
Rral'Mek who looked between the two as if weighing his options. Inserting the
pill shaped object into Rral'Mek's ear the serge stepped back and pulled out a
larger device strapping it to his ear and plugging it into a battered device
attached to his utility belt. " Do
you understand my words Kilrathi?"he asked. Attention
focused on Leeba, Rral'Mek posed both ears in his direction while watching him,
but said nothing. Knowing they were close to docking he continued, “I’m Sargent
Leeba with the Terran Confederation Navy. You have been captured and are now a
prisoner of war. You have sustained grievous wounds. These two med technician’s
will patch you up enough to get you to the brig. If you resist in any manner
you will be shot without hesitation. Not an honorable death for you.” Leeba
finished. As to emphasize his point the marine powered up his blaster rifle
while still keeping it trained on Rral'Mek. On the
ground Jerrod moaned and struggled to move. Just then, his comlink came to
life, “Sargent Leeba we're at external docking. Phobias is requesting your
security code landing verification.", came a male voice through the
comlink. “Tell Phobias I'll be a minute there's a mess down here I need to
babysit. Put us in a stationary orbit until I get to the bridge." "Understood
sir." Both med techs moved warily towards Rral'Mek who in no way
acknowledged them but instead kept his gaze on Leeba and the marine soldier.
Setting down their medkits, they began work on Rral’Mek's injuries. Some was
known about Kilrathi anatomy which had mostly been learned from autopsies of
dead warriors collected after battle. Though Kilrathi were somewhat sleeker and
more muscular than their human counterparts, they had the basic make up of
organs and needed food, water and oxygen to survive. Their bones and muscles
were much denser and sleeker though. The cats also had oversized lungs allowing
them a great deal more endurance and stamina than the humans. “He’s
going to have a severe concussion sir. There are a multitude of lacerations
that will need stitching. I'd also bet from the blood running out his nose he
is suffering from internal bleeding.", one med tech explained. The second
had his helmet visor down and was conducting an x-ray scan on Rral’Mek’s
organs. “Yes sir, internal bleeding and he's sustained four broken ribs, one of
which has pierced his lung. This much damage would have killed any human. ” The
second confirmed. “Will
he live?", Leeba asked. “Hard
to say at this point." one tech answered. “Do
what you can to stabilize him until we can get him on board and into the med
bay.", Leeba said. “What
about him?", the second tech asked pointing at Jerrod, who lay prone on
the floor. “When
you’re done with the prisoner see to him."Leeba ordered. Turning
to the marine he continued, “When there finished with that crap on the floor
get him in the brig. I want him and the other separated from each
other." His
face covered by his blast shield, the marine's expression remained hidden, but
he nodded in understanding. "I'll be on the bridge. I want this done
before we complete docking." Rral'Mek had indeed understood every word
that had been said, thanks to the nifty little device the human had inserted in
his ear. Though the human had spoken in his native tongue the device had somehow
converted it into Ki'Ril'Cha the language of his people. Rral'Mek knew better
than to cause trouble at the moment opting instead to bid his time. His wounds
were serious but not so that he wouldn't survive he knew. As the med personal
continued their work his thoughts were focused on one thing, escape. Dwayne
Leeba headed to the bridge frustrated. He had no love for the Kilrathi seeing
how their thirst for battle and bloodlust was never satisfied no matter how
many worlds they conquered or innocent lives they slaughtered. Yet seeing his
own kind lower themselves to such a degrading state made it no better. He was
raised as a soldier and believed in what a soldier stood for. Honor, Duty,
Integrity and Sacrifice were what he believed in and lived by all his life. Yet
what he had seen was not the act of a soldier but, the act of killers with no
conscious or moral compass what so ever. To him Jerrod and Hemby were no better
than the Kilrathi the Confederation was at war with. In his late forties Leeba
had a muscular build being thick limbed having lived a life built on routine
and structure. A six
foot two and over two hundred pounds his frame was bulky with a fine amount of
muscle he kept tone through daily exercise. Leeba had signed on with FleetCom
Navy in his early thirties wanting to experience the thrill of space combat.
Soon after his first year of flight school Leeba had was becoming burnt out on
how much book work came with combat flight training. He had wanted to complete
the academy flight training in order to advance his career and make
officer one day. Pushing himself he made it one more year before deciding to
switch service with the marines understanding that the book work on flight
mechanic’s only got worse with all the different types of fighters, bombers,
and deep recon ships that were in service. Already
being semi familiar with pilot life, the marines offered him up front and in
your face mission action that he felt he was more suited for. Deciding to
fore-go his goal for officer life he had changed his mind adopting the
motto a marine's life is a simple life. Having spent almost a decade with the
marines he enjoyed and lived by their code of conduct. It wasn’t long before he
gained the rank of sergeant and opting to stay there passing up the opportunity
for more advancement. To him the most important weapon was the soldier and it
was his duty to make sure those under his command remained razor sharp. Iron
sharpens iron was his concept that he lived by. His hair mostly grey added with
semi wrinkled features with a well-kept goatee, most who looked upon him could
see he was a man of many talents within the Confed Navy, giving off more than
the appearance of a career grunt. As Leeba walked into the bridge he looked
out the transport window the huge burnt and blackened docking bay doors were
there to greet him. Two
pilot’s sat in the forward cockpit seats going over ship diagnostics. “Hey
serge everything ok back there?” one of the pilots asked. “Just another day in
the core.” Leeba stated gruffly, knowing that no two days where ever the same
out here. Especially dealing with the Kilrathi Empire.
SUPPLY CONVOY LAUNCHED FROM
WELKER BATTLESTATION ENROUTE TO PHOBEUS.
* * * * * * Michael
Fanin stood at attention in Commander Wedgeworth's office unsure of what was
going on. Commander Wedgeworth sat behind her desk which was overloaded with a
mixture of data pad’s holo-chips. A holo-projector was built to be centered in
her desk. It displayed general information that shorted in and out of
view, due to power surges throughout the carrier. Behind her desk built
in the wall was a large solar window that bore several large web like cracks up
and down the panel. Scanning her office Michael noticed almost a dozen awards
and commendations the commander had on her office walls, verifying her
accomplishments with her career within the Confed Navy. Wedgeworth herself bore
snow white hair with age and liver marks on her wrinkled face and exposed
hands. Michael was surprised that someone of her advanced age would still be
serving in the Navy. The commander’s eyes however were a deep rich blue which
rapidly scanned a data pad she held. He didn't doubt there wasn't much that she
did not miss when it came to her duties. “Have
a seat Lieutenant.” Wedgeworth offered after a moment not looking up from the
data pad. As Michael sat, the Commander continued, "1st Lieutenant Michael
Fanin Confederation pilot Raptor class. Serving on Phobias for three years with
no disciplinary incidents. Thirty nine confirmed kills including three capital
ships. Four bronze stars, two silver and two gold. Your psy profile says your
highly intelligent, though prone to impulsive decisions and work best under
pressure.” Having
no clue where the commander was going Michael could only respond with,"
Yes Ma'am I'd say that's pretty accurate." Setting
the pad down and looking at him for the first time she said," I want you
to prove your profile true by answering a question." “Yes,
Ma'am?". “Explain
how the Kilrathi caught us totally off guard with no advanced warning nor any
incoming jump transmission’s. Added there's not a jump point with in 10 million
clicks of this system,” she asked pointedly. A
nervous chill crept in him. Instantly his thoughts returned to the rumors of
the ongoing pirate hacking that plagued the confederation. “Ma’am
am I under investigation here?". “Not
in the least, Lieutenant, I simply wish to access your opinion on how we were
caught by surprise by a Kilrathi assault force,” Sitting
back in his seat Michael thought again on how the cats had magically appeared
out of nowhere. “Commander I'm no scientist, but if I had to guess I'd say we
just got a firsthand view of a new type of jumping technology the cats have
been working on." Wedgeworth
rewarded his guess with a slight smile. “Profile proven, Captain."
Continuing, she said approvingly," I've been going over the flight logs of
our patrols and have come up with nothing. Phobias’s long range senor's have
also came up empty. I agree and think the Kilrathi have indeed found a way to
mask their jump emissions making them practically undetectable until we were
staring at them face to face. This is a grave threat. Not only they can mask
their jump signatures, but they have also found a way to jump through space
without the necessity of a jump point." Taking
a deep breath, Michael weighted out what the commander was saying. If indeed
the Kilrathi had found a way to mask their jump emissions, it meant that their
fleets could literally get the jump on any confederation fleet or outpost with
practically no warning. A sense of dread coursed through him as he thought
about what it meant for the war. " If this is true, then they could very
well send their core fleets straight at Earth and be at our doorstep before
anyone knew anything about it." he said. “It
is a possibility, Lieutenant. But we don't know enough about this technology-if
it does exist yet--to ascertain what it can and cannot do, `` Wedgeworth
explained. "However,
the possibility of it represents a threat and a risk--That, for the moment,
cannot be ignored." Michael
nodded, but something was still bothering him.. “Commander,
I understand the seriousness of this new threat but, what does it have to do
with me.?” “Directly
nothing Captain, though you are one of the few to get a firsthand view of what
capability this new technology-- if accurate--gives theKilrathi. However,
events for you personally,have changed." "Changed
in what way, ma'am?" Picking
up a data pad, the commander handed it to Michael. "
You’re being transferred." "Transferred?
To where?" He asked, taking the datapad. Scanning
over it his eyes lit up at seeing his destination. “Earth!”
he exclaimed in surprise . “Yes,
Lieutenant," Wedgeworth confirmed," Apparently there's a new carrier
coming online and your reassignment is aboard her." In
his spare time, Michael made an effort to keep himself updated with
current news of new weapons or projects that were currently in development with
FleetCom R&D, but hadn't heard anything about a new carrier under
construction in Sol System. Then again being on the front lines, intel was indeed
hard to get out here. Holo-mail had a constant backlog of almost three months
due to the pressure of war. Reading the transfer orders and seeing that they
were indeed legitimate, Michael was at a loss for words. “T.C.S
DayStorm? Never heard of her," he said after a moment. “First
news I have had of her as well, Captain. She's to come online and operational
within the week. Your transfer comes from pretty high up the admiralty
chain.” Taking
the datapad she scrolled down to the authorization signature, “From Admiral
William Welker, so it seems.” Wedgeworth explained. Michael
knew the name and seen Welker's face on the holo-news from time to time, but he
never dreamed that he would come anywhere near the man's circle. Fate,
it seemed had chosen otherwise. “There’s
one more thing.” Wedgeworth said. She
reached under her desk, retrieved a small black box, and placed it on her
desk. Michael’s gaze instantly fell on the box.. Taking it and pressing
his thumb against the scanner, the bottom slide down- revealing two pairs
of platinum stars with a golden trim. “You’re
being promoted, Lieutenant--or Squadron Commander Fanin, congratulations
sir." Wedgeworth said, smiling and offering her hand. Michael
was too stunned to speak. He offered
Wedgeworth a somewhat weak handshake, still staring at the four stars
that would replace his two silver stars on his shoulder bar. Looking
at the commander, he said, “Ma’am, I'm not ready for this." “Who is
sir, just remember, victory loves preparation.” was all the advice that
Wedgeworth was willing to offer. Feeling
a bit overwhelmed as one bomb came after another, Michael sat the little box
down attempting to understand all of this. Squadron Commander was more than a
rank above a fighter captain and required at least twelve to fourteen years of
service before one would even be considered for such a rank. It was a medium
officer ranking, but an officer nonetheless. Michael was barely passing his
ninth year in FleetCom Navy. He had been aboard Phobias for the last three
years and it was his home. He had friends here that he would have been proud to
call family; he didn’t want to leave them behind. The thought of leaving to a
new assignment back in Sol unsettled him. He was a combat pilot-- as Squadron
Commander it would be a whole new venture for him. He would have sixty---if not
more---pilots he would be responsible for, roster assignments, coordinating
flight patrols and mission assignments, pilot briefing and debriefings. He
would see very little flight time himself now being an officer aboard a new
carrier. It was not a pleasing idea. His
thoughts flashed back to Wildcat and the six other pilots who had died as his
wingmen. “Commander,
this has to be some kind of mistake, I don't know anyone that high up the
chain-of-command.” he said. “It
seems somebody knows you, Mr. Fanin, or in some way you have attracted
the attention of the higher ups.” Wedgeworth said, setting down the
datapad. "I'm
not sure I want this ma'am; I'm just a combat pilot. Plus I’m really not in
love with the idea of just up and leaving Phobias right after a battle. From
what I’ve seen, this carrier is on her last leg and I know I could be of use
here with repairs and what not. ” He admitted. “I
understand, but you’re being reassigned for a reason and like it or not this
reassignment is happening. We’re two and a half days out from Welker battle
station. There’s already a supply convoy in route with additional repair
personal and replacement cargo that will give us the push to Welker station
where Phobias is to undergo a very long overdo refit. Repairs will
proceed fine without you.” She
paused before continuing. “Mr.
Fanin, if I were you, I’d be focusing on packing my gear after you leave here.
It’s your duty as a Confederation officer to step up to the plate.” She said.
“This is a good advancement for your career Mr. Fanin. My instinct tells me you
will make a capable leader.” Michael
was still trying to make sense of it all when Wedgeworth continued. ”With
that being said, there’s a transport ship that will be leaving for Sol system
in four hours. You’ll be the only passenger on that ship heading back. You
should arrive in six days.” “Six
days!?” Michael said. Based
on current navigation information, he knew that Earth-or Terra as the boarder
worlds called the planet-was almost twenty two days travel by standard
commercial and military jump points. The main Nav points were intensely
patrolled by both system militia and Navy forces on the hunt for would be
smugglers, data and cargo pirates. “Yes,
six days. I’ve had personal dealings with the captain, he’ll be given Nav
coordinates that will make your trip much faster.” Wedgeworth said. Michael had
no idea such coordinates had even existed, but knew that such a direct route to
the heart of the confederation would be classified and require the highest of
security clearance. “Who’s
the captain? Are the coordinates in the star charts?” he asked but he already
knew the answer. “Of
course not. If such information were to fall into Kilrathi hands it would prove
a fatal flaw that would end the Confederation. The captain’s name is Trysten Tennying;
he’s a mercenary and owner of a freelance venture corvette named Dawn’s
Horizon.” Michael
was shocked at learning he would be hitching a ride aboard a merc transport.
“You’re trusting a mercenary captain with jump coordinates that show a way to the
heart of Sol in less than a week?” he asked in disbelief. Mercenaries
cared nothing for the war that was going on or who won it. Their main goal was
profit--plain and simple, being much like the pirates. Many were suspected of
having dealt with pirate hackers buying the stolen data and reselling it to
Kilrathi agents along the front lines making a large profit from the deal. The
mercenary guilds across Confed sectors assured FleetCom internal security
charged with maintaining quadrant security compliance and policing cargo and
traffic lanes that the dealings were of no concern for the Navy and would be
handled by their own personal defense force in quelling the smuggling. The
pirates, wanting no dealings with the Kilrathi, were all too happy to let the
mercenary smugglers play the middle man role with their agents as long as their
pockets stayed fat. “As
I said, I have had past dealings with Captain Tennying he has proven himself
reliable, and is a member of the Merc guild for this sector.” Wedgeworth
explained. “I don’t like this at all commander.” Michael admitted. ” I
mean, what’s to prevent him from making a copy of the coordinates if he decides
he wants to earn a fast credit and make some new friends with the fur balls?” Picking
up a holo-chip Wedgeworth said,” Safety measures are already in place, Mr.
Fanin. The coordinates automatically delete themselves, and are re-coded
differently after every jump is made in the holo-chip and on the transport
ship’s star charts. It’s impossible for a would be thief to extract the numbers
which are reconfigured. There’s no way to make a copy either. At any attempt to
copy there’s a sub-directive embedded in the holo-chip that will erase all data
contained on it.” “Why a
mercenary ship Commander? Surely, we have a Draymen available.” Picking up a
data pad Wedgeworth inserted the holo-chip and started a download. “Not
at the moment, no. And your orders call for an immediate departure. It’s
fortunate that Captain Tenning’s ship survived the assault with such little
damage.” Wedge Worth stated. Michael’s
suspicions were on edge about hitching a ride with a freelancing vessel with no
ties to the confederation, except contract’s and bounties that FleetCom
councilmen had available for those looking to freelance their services. Even
worse was the idea of handing over coordinates that lead to the heart of Sol in
less than a week. Still though he was not in position to protest anything, no
matter how unsettling the situation seemed. A green light began flashing on the
data pad telling of the download completion. Extracting the holo-chip
Wedgeworth extended her hand towards Michael holo-chip waiting. “A copy of your
transfer orders along with the encoded jump coordinates. ” Reaching her hand
under her desk she pulled out another holo-chip a little larger than the first.
“ I’ve prepared a report as well for you to give to your new Commander when you
reach Sol. It contains a detailed account of the recent assault. The contents
are as I’m sure you know are classified.”
Reluctantly,
Michael grabbed the holo-chips. “Is there anything else Mr. Fanin?” Michael
reframed from wanting to say more knowing that it wouldn’t do any good. Weather
he agreed with it or not he had his orders. Orders that for the moment he was
unsure of how he could live up to. He knew very little about officer life, nor
had any formal training in flight school. Shaking his head he said, “No
Ma’Am.”, though he clearly wanted to protest more he knew that little good
would come from it. “Good, then suggest you get packing. Captain Tennying is
already preparing his vessel for launch, time is short.”, the commander
explained. Both stood at the same time with, Michael saluting and Wedgeworth
returning it. Turning with holo-chip in hand he moved towards the hatchway
doors when Wedgewood said,” Mr. Fanin.”. Turning Michael looked back at the
commander. “Remember sir, there are no bad crews. Only bad leaders.” With a
grudging nod Michael headed through the entrance and into a new chapter in his
life. A chapter that he had no idea how to write. * * * * * EXCELLOR CLASS ( CONFEDERATION DESTROYER)
RALATHI DESTROYER
T.C.S DAWN’S HORIZON ( MODIFIED VENTURE CLASS CORVETTE), EN ROUTE
TO SOL SYSTEM. CARGO ONE PASSENGER.
Otto, stomped into Dawn’s Horizon’s
bridge in a foul and nasty mood. His grey and dirty flight suit stained with
its latest and smelliest addition, apart from a large cigar he had lite and was
in the process of chewing on. Entering the bridge he found Captain Tennying and
his co-pilot a tight lipped woman named Amanda. Both sat in their respective
pilot seats, Amanda going over a preflight checklist and Tennying studying a
datapad. As the Dawn’s Horizon’s only mechanic and engine technician, Otto was
a skinny man with hard and gruff looking looking features, who did not fit the
burly and large stereotyped image that most people thought of with mechanical
technicians . With a light breaded face his features with edgy and always
looked shrunk in due to his hard life and hard drinking. However aside from
Captain Tennying he was the only man capable of making changings and upgrades
to the vessel’s modified engine and weapon’s systems. Having been aboard for
almost ten years the man knew every system and modification on Dawn’s Horizon
by heart. Yet, Tennying had asked him to play host to their passenger who had
come aboard drunk as a skunk. To make matters worse their passenger had seen
fit to lose control blow chunks all over him, adding a new and offensive smelly
stain to his already grungy uniform. Not looking up from his data pad Tennying
asked, “How’s our boy?” “The b******s aboard and out cold asleep in the crew
quarters.” Otto gruffed. Upon looking up Tennying’s eyes went wide in shock.
“Christ man! What the hell happened!?” seeing Otto drenched in vomit which
still dripped off his clothes. “Damned flyboy came aboard drunk as skunk. His
a*s couldn’t hold his liquor, so decides I’m the perfect target for him
to empty his stomach out on!” Overhearing Otto, Amanda looked up from her
console seeing Otto for the first time. Her slim petite features cringing at Otto’s appearance. ,”
That’s a lot of puke Otto, though it probably doesn’t smell as bad as that
cigar.” she observed smiling. Smirking Tennying said, “I think I’d be washing
up rather than up here on the bridge.” Huffing at the obvious Otto threw his
hands up. “Captain, I’m not a freaking ship host!” he complained. “You pay me
to keep the engines in line and up to speed. This ship has a lot of work left
and I don’t have time to play escort for some Confed wannabe hotshot who
probably couldn’t put a hydro-nit and multi-driver bolt together if he had the
instructions and video right in front of him! If I’m gonna play concierge then
I want more credits!” Otto bellowed before storming off the bridge. “He’s
pissed.” Amanda said grinning. “I would be too, he looked like he had a pound
of barf on him. I’ll give him this much, for such a skinny fellow his voice
sure can carry.” Tennying said laughing while rubbing his ear. “I’m betting
Watt’s and Rolland will never let him live that down.” Amanda jested, returning
back to her console. “Would you?“ Tennying asked smirking .”Those two should be
done securing the cargo hold, we lift off in seven minutes.” Tennying remarked.
Switching on the cargo hold surveillance camera Amanda panned the camera around
finding both strapping down several large containers in the hold. Activating
the ships com system she said, “Come on already, we’re off in seven. Captain’s
waiting.” “That’s the last one, we’re clear down here!” Watt’s a heavyset and
burly man called back. Looking to Tennying, Amanda gave him a thumbs up. “Good,
finish up with the preflight, I’m going to find Srri and have her look after
our passenger.” Tennying said getting up from his flight seat. At the mention
of Srri Amanda’s features grew serious. “Do you think that’s a good idea?” she
asked? Stopping at the hatchway entrance Tennying turned to face her.” I really
don’t give care. This is my ship, and Srri’s a part of my crew.” “Yes, but
having Srri aboard a confederation carrier could cause a lot of unwanted
problems that we don’t need. You already know Felix has no love for the
Confederation. If this guy decides to make waves about Srri it could well...
it’s just bad for business.” Amanda said. “I don’t plan to be aboard this
carrier any longer than I half to. Besides, Srri brings us an edge when we have
to deal with the Kilrathi. Plus, she’s useful in a lot of ways. If flyboy
doesn’t like her then he’s welcome to leave in an escape pod if need be. Either
way I’m not going to have her hiding or keeping to the shadows for the duration
of this trip, no matter what this guy thinks.” Tennying said. “Hope your right
in this, captain.” Amanda stated. “Look sooner or later he’s gonna know she’s
onboard. It’s almost three weeks to Earth. Even with this cloak and dagger
course Commander Wedgeworth gave us. Better to put her out in the deck once we
clear docking, then try and hide her for three weeks. If this guy finds out
about her later and asks what’s the deal we could suddenly look very suspicious
to him. Last thing I want is my name on a bar from FleetCom contracts. Like you
said no waves.” Tennying explained, growing annoyed. “Captain, I think you did
that already just by bringing her aboard.” “Just finish the preflight check and
get us launch clearance. I’ll be back.” Tennying snapped a little harshly while
turning and going through the hatchway. “Damn, sorry.” Amanda muttered turning
back to her console screen. Amanda didn’t really blame the captain for snapping
at her. She understood the risk he was taking and had taken every time they had
docked aboard a Confederation ship. It was a risk that could land all of them
in a FleetCom prison cell for the rest of their days, at the least. With being
executed on the spot at the very worst. Amanda had heard stories of ship
Commanders who had caught would be merc’s hacking their data banks attempting
to steal military star charts or other sensitive material. They and their crews
were executed immediately on the spot with little to no concern for due
process. FleetCom internal affairs had more than once turned a blind eye to
Commanders who felt it prudent to take judgement into their own hands. To her
it was an unnecessary risk and foolish. Being a new member of Tennying’s crew
she was in no position to protest. Young and very ambitious she desired to one
day have a ship and crew of her own, loaded down with fat contracts. * * * * Felix sat at a table in the ships
bunk area nursing a half empty bottle of whiskey. Several razor sharp shurikens
and a long knife lay scattered about the table. A soft snoring sound emanating
from the bunk area was his only company. Carefully he picked up one of the
shurikens making sure to keep his fingers clear of the highly explosive contents
in its center. Pulling out a wet stone from his bandolier he began to sharpen
the already smooth and razor sharp edge. Being a weapon’s specialist and second
in command aboard the Dawn’s Horizon under Tennying, he was a brutal mercenary.
He was by far not the typical norm for a human. Early in the war Confed medical
scientist had begun cybernetic experiments hoping to blend the speed, strength
and aggressiveness Kilrathi warriors into human soldiers. The goal was to make
an enhanced combat soldier that would be on par with the cats warriors and
their elite vanguard. At hearing of the possible opportunity of increased
strength and speed Felix had automatically volunteered for the experimentation.
He had been assured there would be no side effects nor permanent alterations to
his body. Titanium gauntlets laced with pinpoint needles had been surgically
grafted to his forearms and calves. Metallic flex hose’s ran from
the ends of his gauntlets into the lower parts of his bi-cepts and calves,
giving him a cyber-mechanical appearance. The experimental procedure had indeed
gave him what researchers had promised, and much more than what he had
expected. Along with his enhanced abilities his vision and hearing had also
improved beyond the norm. It had come with a price though. The chemicals that
had been used to increase muscle mass and quicken his agility had come with an
unforeseen cost. Side effects due to rewriting Felix’s genetic code had soon
begun to manifest themselves despite what researchers had told him. Felix
lost all the hair on his body and could not grow it back. Every vein in his
body had swelled and gorged to unnatural proportions threatening to burst
through his skin. His skin texture had gone from a natural light tan to a pearl
white far beyond that of an albino. Sleep was all but impossible for him. The
best he could manage was a semi-unconscious daze that he would drift in and out
of, which he had to self-induce with alcohol or illegal drugs. He was a
constant victim of insomnia while suffering from fits of psycho delusions from
the lack of sleep. As a natural result from drinking and constant drug usage
addiction soon set in not improving his condition or situation. Felix had at once wanted the
implants and chemicals removed. After numerous testing medical staff had
informed him while the implants could be removed his body had become dependent
on the chemicals used to stimulate his enhancements. Any attempt to withdraw
from them would likely cause his body to shut down, killing him in the process.
At learning there was absolutely no hope of reversing his condition Confed had
told him there was nothing they could do nor had the time to do further
research with the war raging across Confederation front lines. They had all but
abandoned the research opting instead to invest in more suitable weapons to
deal with the Kilrathi threat leaving Felix and others who had volunteered to
their fate. He had used what credits he had seeking medical treatment from
independent medical staff in the hopes something could be done. Refusing to
give up he had bankrupted himself denying the reality of his irreversible
situation. As his hope began to fade he came across a promising scientist who
was a leading expert in genetic alterations. After learning of Felix’s situation
and reviewing his condition the scientist felt he could reverse Felix’s
freakish side effects. The scientist however wasn’t entirely sure how his body
would respond to the experimental treatment and that death would be a serious
possibility. Desperate at this point, he was willing to try anything. The
procedure however was very expensive. With no money he had gone to Confed
asking for funding to try the operation. He had been denied with the excuse
that funds were dried up with everything going to the war effort to keep the
cats at bay. Feeling used and betrayed he had been forced to use his advanced
talents in combat for hire. It wasn’t long before Tennying had found him and
learned of his special skills. Tennying had cared little for the man’s physical
appearance more interested in his combat abilities instead. The man was
Tennying’s ace in the hole in dealing with hard situations that often occurred
when he had to deal with the cats. Felix had no love for the Confederation or
anyone in its service labeling them all in the same. When he had first learned
of this assignment he had instantly protested, wanting nothing to do with
Confed. With tensions mounting in the Riley system over pirate activity,
freelance mercenaries were flocking there to provide cover and defense.
Merchant transports loaded with raw materials had been falling prey to
merciless pirates. Tired of looking to Confederation for heavier reinforcements
Merchants had begun offering rich payouts to merc’s who could offer protection
and escort past the harassing thief’s that were plaguing merchant traffic
routes. Felix had argued with Tennying urging him to sign on with the desperate
merchants seeing big credits. Plus Felix knew Tennying wouldn’t mind causing
the troublesome pirates some headaches to the merchant’s delight thus
strengthening their ties. Tennying though had already agreed to take this
assignment despite the lull of big credits the merchants in Riley where
offering. No one aboard knew that in his youth he’d been a confederation pilot
himself and Wedgeworth had been his squadron commander at that time. With ties
that went far back she had more than once saved his bacon during combat
missions. Knowing this he didn’t mind taking on assignments that didn’t pay
much returning her some favor during hard times. Scoffing Felix stated he’d had
rather deal with the Kilrathi who in his eyes at least held some warped sense
of honor, then babysit a petty flyboy. Yet there was little he could do being
desperate for credits. If he was to have any hope of fixing himself he for the
time being needed Tennying and his ties to the fat contracts the mercenary
guild held. “Felix were almost ready to launch, Watt’s and Roland are finishing
up securing the cargo hold. I need you in the cockpit with Amanda.” Said
Tennying entering the crew quarters. Felix made no acknowledgement of Tennying,
continuing to sharpen shuriken. “Felix?” Tennying repeated. “Why’d you
take this assignment Tennying?” Felix asked forgoing Tennying’s title as
Captain. Frowning Tennying looked down at Felix while replying, “Because I’m
the captain and this is my ship.” Looking up Felix’s bloodshot eyes matched
Tennying’s stare. As to emphasize his point Tennying picked up Felix’s whiskey
bottle and took a healthy swig. Instantly he spit the contents of the bottle on
the ground coughing. “Christ man where do you get this stuff?!” Tennying
exclaimed. Looking away Felix allowed himself a small smile. “It’s Kilrathi
bourbon. Stuff will knock down a horse.” Felix muttered. Beating his chest a few
times and clearing his throat Tennying took a brief look at the bottle raising
an eyebrow before setting it down on the table. Tennying knew that Felix had to
take some pretty strong stuff to counter the insomnia providing some temporary
relief for him of his condition. Tennying had often overlooked Felix’s attitude
taking into account his situation, but now wasn’t one of those times. “Look
Felix, I don’t have time to deal with your crap. We’re in prelaunch get off
your a*s and to the cockpit.” Tennying ordered. Scowling, Felix rose from his seat
with Tennying all the while watching. Tennying knew Felix was on edge about
being aboard a confederation ship and it didn’t help that he’d be spending the
majority of this mission in the company of a Confed flyboy. “Just make sure he
keeps clear of me, Captain. If not - .” Pulling out a shuriken Felix placed the
sharp weapon on the nozzle of the bottle its fine blade centered. With one
finger he began press on the butt of the blade. Smiling Felix applied more pressure
against the shuriken. Suddenly dozens of cracks appeared all over the whiskey
bottle. Quicker than the eye could follow Felix lifted his finger while
simultaneously pulling the shuriken free of the nozzle. “Be a pity if our cargo
was damaged somehow. Might make getting paid a bit of a challenge.” He mused.
Without another word Felix turned and headed towards the bridge leaving
Tennying at the table. Frustrated Tennying wasn’t about to let this Confed
pilot anywhere near Felix. If it wasn’t for the man’s fighting abilities and
prowess as a warrior Tennying would have long ago gotten rid of the man. Yet
Felix had his value that hard to match when dealing with the Kilrathi. And
weather he liked it or not they did pay better. Having Felix around made the playing
field much more level in his eyes. Hearing the engines come to life, Tennyings
thoughts drifted to Srri Yet here lately Felix was beginning to test his
patience. Either way it would prove to be an interesting journey. * * * * * Michael
awoke with a continental sized headache that was bidding fair to redraw the
lines of his brain. After leaving Wedgeworth’s office, he’d gone back to the locker
room intent on a long hot shower. Upon entering he’d found several of his co- pilots
with Lisa. It didn’t take Lisa long to Probe Michael’s meeting with Wedgeworth
out of him and even less time to spread the news. Soon well-wishers and
comrades had crowed the locker room all wanting an opportunity for best of luck
and good hunting. It was a good attempt to make cheer with warm wishes after
such an intense battle. With friends and comrades all around Lisa had broached
the idea of a farewell party in the officer’s lounge, and no one thought it
would be a bad idea to boost morale after such a close victory over the
Kilrathi. Michael had reluctantly agreed to a few rounds but a party was out of
question. Lisa on the other hand was going all out. What had started out as few
warm hearted toasted and best wishes, soon turned into an all-night party with
Michael being the guest of honor and toastings. Rising up from the bunk his
head swayed much like his vision of the room. “You have been sleeping for almost nine hours.” he heard a
feminine voice say. Looking around with dazed vision Michael made out several
holo monitors and bunks. Two large speakers and an ancient stereo system stood
in one corner of the room. From what he could make they looked at least several
hundred years old and yet seemed to be in pristine condition. Three tables were
centered in the room, one sporting a cracked half empty whiskey bottle. He
couldn’t make out anyone else in the room besides himself. At the site of the
container Michael felt his stomach tie up in knots. Rubbing his forehead he
laid back down. Wanting nothing more than to drift back into sleep he knew he
couldn’t. “Have we reached the first jump point yet?” he asked his unknown
counterpart. “ I do not know, as purr my captain's orders I have been
safeguarding you since your arrival and have not left your company since
receiving my assignment.” The feminine voice answered. Michael felt his arm
hairs tingle. Something was wrong with the way this person spoke. Her choice of
words didn’t sit well with him. Sitting up from his bunk and re scanning the
room he made out a shadowed figure standing in the corner of the room he’d
missed before. Hidden in the shadow’s Michael couldn’t make out much of her
features. “Step out to where I can see you.” he said squinting. Without hesitation the feature in the corner took two steps out
into the light. Michael saw that she wore a robe with the hood drawn up over
her face. Feeling uneasy Michael’s hair on the back of neck tingled. “Take off your hood.” he said wearily. At the order the figure
hesitated for a moment, almost as if she didn’t understand what he was saying.
He was about to repeat the order when slowly she moved her hands up and removed
the hood. Michael’s eyes popped opened wide in shock and instantly his hand
raced down to his side arm pulling free his blaster. Seeing him pull free his
blaster, the Kilrathi hissed at this human’s aggressive action. Michael wasted
no time taking aim firing off several shots towards the Kilrathi who despite
his shot’s managed to flip over a table ducking behind it. Sliding off the bunk
Michael took aim at the table and released several more that burned into and
through the metallic table forcing the Kilrathi leap behind the next
table. Growing tired of this human Srri stood up from behind the table
giving Michael a clean shot at her. Firing several more shots at Srri, Michael
was known to be a crack shot but the shots sailed past barely missing, her
smashing instead into ancient stereo system cornered in the room. The blaster
bolts made short and dirty work of the speakers leaving nothing left but
smoking ruins which would slowly burn into ashes. Quick flipping over the table
she closed the distance to Michael rapidly. He got off another round of shots
which Srri spun and ducked past without breaking stride. Before Michael could release
another volley Srri shot forth with a strong limb catching hold of Michaels
blaster and disarming him with quick moment too fast for him to follow. As the
blaster fell to the floor Srri pulled Michaels arm out wide while nimble
sliding around behind him taking his arm with her locking it painfully behind
him. Quicker than his eyes could follow she had her claws out and at Michael’s
throat. He could feel her whiskers prick the back of his neck with her breathe
running down his spin. “Furless coward! You dare make an attempt on my life
without cause! If not for my master I would clean my claws on your corpse!” she
hissed angrily. Michael tried to speak but only managed a half choked gurgle as
Srri tightened down on his throat with her claws. Suddenly the crew quarter hatchway doors burst open with
Tennying and Felix rushing into the room both sporting blasters of their own.
“Srri release him!” Tennying ordered upon seeing the two. Michael instantly
felt his breathe return as the pressure on his throat vanished. “Of course my
master.” Srri said letting go and stepping back. All semblance of anger gone.
Michael dropping to all fours catching several much needed breaths. He was
almost half a foot taller than the Kilrathi and must out weighed her by thirty pounds
and yet her speed and strength surprised him. “You’ve got a freaking Kilrathi on board!” Michael stated gasping.
Felix becoming bored with the whole situation began scanning the room. As his
eyes fell over the destroyed speakers and stereo his visage hardened. “Ahh! Son
of a B***h! Those were antiques! With eyes that promised murder Felix turned
his attention the author of his distress. “Srri, go and get our passenger
something to eat. I’m sure he’s probably got an appetite after such a long
rest. Felix step outside until he can get his bearings.” Tennying said to both
wanting to defuse the situation. “As you command my master.” Srri complied, turning and moving
towards the hatchway doors. Felix on the other hand stood still as a stone eyes
boring into Michael's head. His breathe coming out in rag gage gasps. “Now Felix!” Tennying snapped. Felix’s eyes lingered on Michaels
before snapping to meet Tennyings for a moment before Felix grudging turned and
followed suit out the door. “There’s a freaking Kilrathi aboard. “ Michael repeated, still
shocked somewhat. “Her name is Srri, she’s part of my crew here. I’m Tristham
Tennying Captain and owner of this fine vessel.” he stated reaching down and
giving Michael a hand to his feet. Tennying was as tall as Michael with much
bulker build. Bald headed Tennying wore a deep tan almost to a burnt level. His
face sported two deep scares one boring down from his eye to lower part of his
jaw line and the other transversing upward at the same angle. Several tattoos Michael couldn’t make out lay on the other
side of his face. It looked to him as some sort of language he’d never seen
before. Michael’s mind still somewhat impaired from the effects of the party
spent a long moment replaying everything. After a moment he said, “You brought a Kilrathi aboard a
military vessel.” “I would have introduced myself when you came aboard but your
condition at that time prevented such a meeting.” Tennying explained, side
stepping Michael’s accusations. Michael felt a brief flush of embarrassment
upon hearing ( condition ) knowing he’d been drunk as a skunk which it in its
self was a violation of Confederation policy, though no were near the level of
having a Kilrathi aboard a confederation ship. Michael’s thoughts drifted back
to the conversation he had with Wedgeworth and wondered if she had any idea
this captain she’s spoken of was deliberately hauling around a Kilrathi as part
of his crew. “Srri has been with us for over a year now and has proven herself
more than once sir. She’s very adaptable as you’ve already seen.” Tennying
stated deciding to broach the subject. “That still in no way gives you the right to bring a Kilrathi crew
member or not aboard a Confederation vessel. She could be a spy or a stealthy
assassin.” Michael countered. “I’m sure we all could if the price were right.
And technically Srri has never stepped aboard a confederation vessel since
coming to be a part of my crew and she’s been on quite a few. ” Tennying
admitted. Michael wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Just then the hatchway doors opened with Srri returning carrying a
trey with a steaming hot meal that even from this distance had Michaels stomach
on edge. Even the lingering effects of the alcohol were no match for the
overpowering aroma of the meal she carried. Michael’s attention however was
focused on Srri. She’d replaced the hood overhead again and had set the trey
down on the only remaining table and stood silent. “Pull off your hood Srri.” To Michael’s surprise Srri pulled off
the hood without a moment’s hesitation revealing her features. To Michaels
surprise she was a stunning creature. Shorter than him a soft layer of short
light golden fur covered her features. She had two large golden brown eyes that
matched her fur perfectly. Her features reminded Michael of a jaguar. Dark
almost black spots dawned her facial features adding to her beauty. Several
inch long whiskers with a pair of fangs from her jaw stood out from both sides
of her nose completing her feline complexion. Then he took note of something
he’d never seen on any Kilrathi before. Behind her she sported a furry tail.
She was beautiful in her own way and Michael knew without a doubt just as
deadly. “My apologies if I upset you human. I had no dishonorable
intentions towards you and still do not. My Lord Tennying has given me
instructions to be of assistance to you while you are aboard the Dawn’s
Horizon. There are several capsules on the trey with your meal that remove any
lingering effects from the alcohol.” Srri said. Looking her over Michael found
it was almost impossible to get a read on her. Despite the smell of the meal or
the promise of relief from monstrous headache now plaguing him he had no intention
to try the meal nor the pills. “ Srri serves as an interpreter and an ambassador
of sorts when we have unpleasant encounters with Kilrathi, among other things.
“, before he could go any further several red warning lights began flashing
with a voice female voice booming on the intercom. “ Better get up here Captain.” “Now what.” Tennying muttered to himself. “Stay here.” he told
Michael. “Maybe I’d better go with you. Might be good to have an officer around
weather you need one or not.” Michael said. “Sigh’s, alright then but stay out
of the way. Might be a good idea to take those pills as well. “Tennying nodded
towards the table. As Tennying moved towards the doors, Michael thinking
otherwise snatched up the pills and followed suit. As the pair moved through
the hatchway doors Michael caught site of the freakish looking individual he’d
seen before standing outside scowling. As his eyes locked on Michael’s the
scowl deepened. Thankfully he said nothing but instead fell in behind Michael.
“Your pet not coming?” Michael asked and instantly regretted it. Sure enough
Tennying turned with a nasty frown on his face, “ Srri, her name
is Srri and I’d be careful how you address my crew members. So far
you’re not making a favorable impression on them.” Tennying remarked. Off to a great start Michael told himself, and wishing he’d kept
his mouth shut. Turning Tennying continued towards the bridge with Michael
following suit. He didn’t find the inside of the Dawn’s Horizon impressive at
all. At least not by Confed standards. The main corridor leading to the bridge
he guessed was maybe three meters in diameter. It had a grilled walkway full of
rust and some clutter, parts and needed to be cleaned badly. Exposed steam
pipes hung overhead sweating a nasty dirt looking like substance from them. He
thanked God he didn’t see any exposed power lines or circuitry. Every couple of
meters a semi lit light had been installed. Judging from the dim light they
emitted Michael wondered if their power generator was up to par. He noticed
several rather nasty looking grime spot’s on the walls telling him that Tennying
obviously didn’t take too much pride in his ship, based off the way things were
looking. Michael was glad he hadn’t tried the food after all. The air a rich
with thick rustic type smell that only got worse the closer he got to the
bridge. Mercenaries at their finest he told himself. Upon entering the bridge Michael found two large console stations
centered in front a large octagon shaped window representing the front of the
ship. A slender blond haired woman sat in front of one of them. A few meter’s
back were two more stations just as large located each corner of the bridge.
One was occupied by a slender man smoking a cigar. Looking up from the console
he saw Michael, frowned and looked back down towards his screen. Christ is
everyone gonna frown at me? He wondered. “Stay over out of the way and over
there.” Tennying said gesturing to one side of the ship. Not wanting to make
any worse impressions Michael found the corner and stood aside. “What’s the
deal Amanda?” he asked. “Two contacts captain both bearing four two nine five,
mark one seven zero eight, distance eleven point seven clicks.”” Seems we came
in on Confed and Kitty play time.” Otto gruffed to himself. “Give me a
picture.” Tennying ordered. Hitting several keys on her console a large screen
lowered from the ceiling and emitted a picture for everyone to see. On the screen, an excellor destroyer appeared with a Ralathi
destroyer in close pursuit. Michael moved closer for a better view. Suddenly
the Kilrathi destroyer fired two large cannon shots from its main battery. Both
shot’s slammed into the excellor’s port side causing a large rupture to appear,
along with large amounts of debris. Returning fire from its port side battery
the excellors cannon’s put several nice shot’s into the Ralathi’s mid-section.
“I’m picking up a S.O.S from the excellor Captain.” Amanda announced. She
continued, “Her reactor is on a meltdown, only a matter of time until it blow’s
along with all hands aboard. Scanners are also showing massive damage to the
Ralathi’s engines. Looks like the Excellor is pulling away.” Tennying stood
silently studying the situation on the screen. Michael suddenly got a bad
feeling at what he thought Tennying was thinking. “Don’t tell me you’re the kind of mercenary who’d let several
hundred innocent people die just because it’s not in your contact, captain.”
Michael said approaching. “Innocent? That’s a military vessel with military
personnel aboard. Innocent is hardly the case here. Our contract is to take you
to Earth. Nothing more, nothing less.” Tennying retorted. Michael couldn’t
believe he was hearing this. “So your just gonna-““Captain! I’ve got inbound
Kilrathi jump emissions! I’m picking up twenty seven, no make thirty new
contacts! “Otto announced suddenly. “ What the hell.” Tennying said rushing
towards Otto’s console. “Confirmed Captain,” Amanda pitched in, her features
going white with dread. “Fourty new inbound Kilrathi contacts! “ It’s a strike fleet.
“Michael blurted not knowing how he knew.” GOD, I hope not. “Amanda said, worry
evident in her voice. Turning towards Felix Tennying said, “Felix you and
Ronnie get the turrets online and ready the upgrades.” Without a word Felix
left the bridge. Tennying turned back to Otto, “Otto why didn’t we pick up
their transponder signals?” “Can’t say Captain, but their coming in clear now.”
Otto said. Flashes of the Kilrathi’s attack on Phobias suddenly rocked Michaels
mind, it was the same lay out. And this fleet again appearing out of nowhere
confirmed that the fur balls did indeed have some new type of jumping
technology that made them virtually undetectable until they were staring you in
the face. For the confederation it was a threat that couldn’t be ignored.
“Scanners picking up three heavy carriers Sivar class, six Ralatha cruisers, nine
Ralathi destroyers, seven Fralathi light cruisers a dozen strike corvettes and
various support ships.” Otto all but croaked. “Status of turret and missile systems?” Tennying snapped. Michael
noted light sweat beads appearing on the man’s face. Pressing several keys
Amanda read the readout. “Weapon systems up and ready upgrades and drive
nominal. “She answered. Moving to Felix’s station Tennyings Fingers flashed
across his console in an effort to raise him. After several seconds Felix’s
face appeared on the screen. “Give me one hundred and forty percent on the
reactor red line it if you half too. “ Tennying ordered. Looking Amanda he
continued, “Set course for the jump point. One hundred thirty percent on
thrusters.” “Wait a minute! “ Michael exclaimed stepping up, “You can’t leave
those people aboard the destroyer to die.” Unlike Felix, Tennying was a former confederation pilot
himself in his younger years before his conversion to a mercenary, and was not
unsympathetic to those aboard the destroyer. But, he wasn’t about to put his
crew or his ship at risk, for nothing. “Their reactor will go critical at any
time. They are already dead, there’s no point in us dying with them. “Tennying
explained. “ You can’t be serious. “Michael said. “ Indeed I am, “ Tennying
countered. “ There are over three hundred aboard that ship, we’d be lucky to
hold a quarter of her crew. And I am not under contract for a rescue. My job is
to get you to Sol in one piece, I’m sorry.” Tennying said sincerely. Michael
couldn’t believe he was hearing this. Nervous about the incoming Kilrathi and wanting to get
things underway, Amanda chimed in, “Course set for two one four, mark
three seven eight. ETA, twenty one minutes.” Michael wasn’t about to stand by
and do nothing. Moving to within earshot of Tennying and whispering, “So help
me, if you let those people die I’ll see to it that you NEVER get another
contract assignment, ANYWHERE within the confederation territories again. And
if I can manage it I’ll have you and your crew arrested and brigged for
bringing a potential spy aboard a confederation carrier. As GOD as my witness I
will not stand by and let you bypass those people, military or otherwise they
are human beings. And if there’s the smallest chance to save them then by GOD
we will take it. Profits be damned! ” He threatened in all seriousness. The two
locked stares. Out of the corner of his eye Michael saw Otto’s arm drift slowly
towards his side arm. “Am I needed on the bridge?” Felix’s voice asked from the
comm screen. Both Michael and Tennying could hear a slight eagerness in his
voice. “No stay with the reactor. “ Tennying said before switching the screen
off and taking Felix out of situation. The last thing Michael needed was
a pissing contest with a mercenary captain in the midst of an approaching
Kilrathi fleet. Yet he was damned if he’d stand by and let Tennying fly past
without making any sort of rescue attempt whatsoever. “ETA to destroyer?”
Tennying asked after a moment. “Captain! There’s no profit in this! “Otto protested.
“ How about the profit of a clear conscience.” Michael retorted turning directly at Otto. Looking away Otto focused
on his console his head lowered in shame. “ETA to destroyer thirteen minutes. “
Amanda said. Continuing she added, “Kilrathi intercept time thirty six
minutes.” Taking a deep breath and not breaking eye contact with Michael
Tennying ordered, “Realign our vector to
intercept the destroyer. Otto patch a link into the excellors computer and keep
tabs on her reactor, and power down our weapons we’ll need it for extra engine
power. Switching on the comlink Tennying got Felix and Ronnie on the other end.
“Get to the cargo hold and make as much space as you can. One of you get to the
supply hold and break out as many med kit’s as you can also. We’re gonna
have company.“ Tennying heard the beginnings of protests but switched off the
com link before the took shape. Looking up from the com link he found both Otto
and Amanda staring at him with blank expressions. “Now!” he snapped. Amanda being the first to react focused her
attention back on the flight systems, “New course set nine, one, four mark two,
eight, eight. Thrusters at one hundred thirty percent.” Facing Michael Tennying
said, “You’d be useful in the cargo hold. “ Looking at Tennying Michael saw a
brief flash of conflict in the man’s expression. With little time to spare
Michael left Tennying to his thoughts, not really caring what the man was
thinking, hurrying towards the cargo hold. Outside the Dawn’s Horizon’s course
shifted towards the destroyer which was being covered with a series of small
explosions. Behind the destroyer the Ralathi drifted further and further away.
Unwilling to give up the chase so close to its prey. Two transport ships had
been launched from the Kilrathi destroyer and were speeding towards the
excellor with all haste. Felix and Ronnie grudgingly worked frantically
clearing and moving as much containers as they could, rearranging supplies and
laying out what med kit’s they could find. Upon seeing Michael both stopped
working momentarily to stare at him. Neither said anything but Micheal could
see them both scowling at him. Just great he thought. It appeared that making
friends with the crew was fast going down the drain. With Michael working
with them they made a good amount of space ready for the incoming and no dough
wounded passengers. “Were two minutes away from docking.” Tennying announced
entering followed by Srri. Michael kept a wary eye on Srri who stared at him
without blinking. “Otto watch that core readout, at the first sign of collapse
we’re gone. “ Tennying said speaking into a headset. Regardless or not how many
are left on that ship.”, he finished giving a look to Michael that left no room
for argument. Just then the hull was bombarded with several large clangs and
booms. “We must be passing through some debris.” Ronnie mused. “I want you over
there herding the crew towards the med kits, get them packed together as close
as you can. We’ll need every inch of
space we have.” Tennying said. Shall I assist him my master? “Srri asked. “ No,
keep to the shadows.” Srri quickly and quietly melted behind some cargo
containers. Over the intercom everyone heard Amanda’s voice announce, “Forty
Two seconds to dock.” Michael moved towards the hatchway door loosely followed
by Felix. Tennying intently placed himself between the pair. Knowing Felix’s
dislike for military personnel he in no way wanted a situation to spark between
the pair that could erupt into an inferno. Peering out the hatchway window the
trio got a firsthand view of the excellor. Along with the small explosions they
could see whole sections missing. Structural debris floated everywhere mixed in
with numerous dead bodies that floated ah drift many dead faces frozen in fear.
“If she wasn’t going up, she’d certainly be scrapped.” Michael noted. “Going up
in a blaze of glory and our asse’s are parking right next to her. Felix said
annoyed, with most of that annoyance directed at Michael. Before any remark
could be made a portable docking cuplink extended out from the Dawn’s Horizon,
several meters latching onto the destroyer. Hook’s connecting the coupling
corridor withdrew several feet locking in the attachment. Instantly all three
felt a heavy continuous shudder course through the ship. On a control panel
next to the hatchway door a small green light appeared. “She’s pressurized,
barely but holding.” Tennying said watching the process intently. Opening the hatchway door Tennying and Michael hurried into and
down the makeshift corridor, towards the excellor’s outer hatchway door. As the
pair approached, the destroyer’s outer door opened revealing a battered figure.
Blood stained various spots on her uniform several second degree burns covered
her neck, along with a nasty gash slanting across her face. A blood soaked
bandage dressed the woman’s forearm. Despite her appearance she gave off a
surety look standing upright and giving them a confident look. “I’m
Lieutenant Ross of the T.C.S Waterloo. Thank God! we were sure we were dead.”
“Captain Tennying of the Dawn’s Horizon, and we still might be if we don’t give
moving Lieutenant. What’s your compliment and where your captain?” he asked.
“Dead,” Ross answered, “Whole bridge crew lost except for myself. Took a
torpedo right in the command center. Lucky shot crippled us in the first round.
Everything went to hell after that. Lost more than half our crew. Last count
was one hundred eighteen out of three hundred forty.” Tennying sucked in his breath. “We’ll be hard pressed to
hold that number but we’ll find a way.” He remarked. “Let’s get them aboard. “
Nodding the Lieutenant stepped aside while motioning with their good arm.
Another officer motioned a dozen meters down were the hallway bent around the
corner. The destroyer’s crew appeared heading towards them. Michael and
Tennying got their first view of the corridor. Even through dim flashing
emergency lights they could tell the place had been through a battering ram.
Exposed electrical lines and power cables dangled from the ceiling. Some
slapping into shredded broken terminals igniting sparks with every touch.
Simmering steam poured through the air vent’s a bad indication of the reactors
condition. Tenny and Michael found a fresh sweat breaking free on both their
foreheads. As the crew made their way forward and passing the pair could see
almost all bore injuries in one way or another. A least a dozen were carried on
stretchers, unconscious. Lacerations and burns could found on everyone that
passed by. Others had shredded limbs while a few had them missing completely
which slowed progress down even more. Without warning a violent shudder rocked
the corridor causing several to stumble. Michael was thrown to the floor, rolling dangerously close
to a steaming vent. Tennying was slammed hard against the hatchway's outer
frame, knocking the wind from him. “Otto! How we doing?” he yelled into the headset after he was able
to get his breath back. Several smaller shudders and a large clang followed.
“Reactor’s red lining captain unstable, not long before it hits critical mass.”
Otto reported. Getting to his feet Michael herded the crew personnel forward,
while shouting, “Let’s go! We got no time! Hurry!” Several dozen more hurried
down the corridor careful to avoid the electrical lines and steaming vents. As
one crew member hobbled forward, his leg shredded and torn Michael threw an arm
under the man helping,” How many more? “He asked. “One more behind me.” The man
said painfully. Just then a lone crewmen burst around the corner. Michael took
note that this man unlike so many other’s bore little to no injuries. Seeing
the pair and running towards them, came to the man’s other side. With all haste
they made their way towards the hatchway door. As they approached the exit
another violent shudder rocked the corridor throwing all three. Small
explosions igniting, blew through the shredded consoles and terminals. Caught
off guard the injured crewman was thrown into a bundle of electrical lines. Screaming
as electrical currents coursed through his body, a sizzling smoke began fuming.
Screaming the poor man’s eyes alit with flame burst from his sockets before
exploding in a showering goo, from the killer voltage. A nasty charred burnt
odor began seeping from his body, before the sweet cold embrace of death came
for him. “Otto!” Tennying screamed. “Running out of time.” Came the semi- garbled reply. Yelling over
the explosions Tennying waved them forward. Needing no further encouragement
Michael surged forward with the remaining crew member close behind. A few feet
away from the exit Michael didn’t miss the expression on Tennying’s features,
“Down!” he shouted. Already dropping, Tennying quickly spun behind the hatchway
exit. The remaining crewmember however wasn’t fortunate to react fast enough. A
barrage of fusion fire slammed into his back. One shot caught the heavyset man
in the head causing it to erupt in a shower of brain and blood. Crumpling
the man toppled forward onto Michael. Peeking from behind the edge of the hatchway and pulling
free his blaster Tennying saw two Kilrathi warriors. Both crouched they began
firing down the destroyers corridor. Unable to fire back they had him all but
trapped. Another violent surge hammered the corridor throwing Tennying out from
his hiding and bowling over one of the Kilrathi. The other keeping his balance
fired several more shots. Taking aim Tennying fired back, scoring two shoulder
shots in the Kilrathi’s chrome armor. Both bolts shoved the warriors shoulder
back, but little else with the armor absorbing the fire. Flattening himself
Tennying screamed, “Felix!” “Stay down!” Tennying yelled seeing Michael trying
to rise. At that moment both heard pounding footsteps approaching. “About
time.”” Felix Admonished, jumping over the pair without breaking stride. With
his comrade joining him both with brace blasters charged continued firing at
Felix who was running head on, easily dodging the dangling power cables and
electrical lines. Dodging several shot’s that sailed past, Felix was able to
pull free a quartet of shurikens, bombarding all four onto one target, before
stopping short. Covering behind his fang shield all four shirkens slammed into it.
Both warriors stopped momentarily looking at the pathetic weaponry the human
used. Both began a hissing laugh. Felix too began laughing. The Kilrathi’s
laugh was cut short, when all four shirkens exploded violently, leaving nothing
behind but a smoldering ruin. The ensuing explosion knocked the remaining
Kilrathi warrior hard into the wall momentarily stunning him. Never one to miss
an opportunity Tennying getting to his feet rushed over to Michael’s aide. With
Michael on his feet both made haste down the corridor towards the Dawn’s Star
hatchway doors. “We’ve got to get out of here!” Michael yelled towards
Tennying. “We’re not leaving without Felix.” Tennying shouted back. Looking back over his shoulder Tennying saw that Felix was still
engaged with the last Kilrathi. Recovered from the dazing blow the Kilrathi
threw off his arm shield while roaring in challenge charged ahead. Felix,
likewise came on. Taller and with more lean muscle, the Kilrathi knew he’d make
short work of his lesser prey. To his utter amazement as they both collided,
the warrior found himself being toppled backwards. The overpowering brute force
of the human shook the warriors confidence. Strattled and unable to move the
Kilrathi extended his razer like claws intending to tear out his adversaries
throat for a quick kill. Catching the warrior’s wrist Felix slammed it hard
into the floor, causing the brace baster to erupt in a torrent of fire. “Game
Over.” He taunted with a sadistic grin. Driving on metallic gauntlet down he
smashed and drove through the warrior’s skull. Rolling off the still twitching
corpse and rising with blood soaked gauntlet, Felix felt an intense
satisfaction long missed. “Felix! Move your a*s!” he heard Tennyings voice over the protests
of the violent shudders and sparking hazards. Quick as any cat he spunk racing
back towards the Dawn’s Star outer hatchway. At almost a dozen feet away Felix
caught a look of complete horror Michael’s and Tennyings features. Looking
behind Felix saw a nightmare come around the bend of the destroyer’s corridor.
Standing a t over nine feet in height and plated with chrome colored armoring
that could withstand all but the most brutal weaponry, the Kilrathi berserker
mech was a pure beast for any confederation soldier, let alone an enhanced
mercenary. The mechanical unit’s features mimicked that of a Kilrathi soldier,
but far more deadlier. Its kur’rit blade was sharp enough to sever almost
anything it came across. Six inch claws protruded from both its
impressive hands. Two six cannon mini-guns dawned each of its flanks for
awesome long range firepower. Sported in back and atop its shoulder sat a
missile with armor coned around it. Vented thruster jets were littered all
around the unit’s ex-skeleton allowing for instant dart like movements, making
it even more of a threat in melee combat. “Ah s**t.” Felix groaned. Seeing
three easy target’s the berserker began forward, it’s pilot safely inside and
exo-skeleton out for blood. Without warning a huge explosion burst out from the
docking panel that controlled the pressure and seal ment of the cup link
corridor to the destroyer’s outer hatchway door. The seal broke creating a
four- inch gap into cold space. A high pitch warning siren began wailing down
the hallway. Instantly a high pressure vacuum filled both cup link and
corridor. Felix desperate to make the last few feet inside the Dawn’s Horizon
cargo hold came up short against the pull of the vacuum. Both gauntlet’s found
and held a vise like grip on the Dawn’s Star’s lower hatch lip. His feet
however were lifted off the ground pulled towards the hungry gap leading into
cold space. Michael was able to spin inside the ship’s cargo entrance and was
somewhat shielded against the pull. Tennying wasn’t so lucky however,-- being
ripped off the floor--and sucked towards the vacuum. Felix made a desperate grab as Tennying tumbled passed but only
catching air. Screaming, Tennying slammed through the gap turning his body into
a bloody mist as his remains exited into the cold void. The berserker, going
down on all fours , dug its metallic claws deep into the floor grid. With a
death grip hold the lower latch
lip and muscle’s bulging with strain, Felix began to walk himself slowly
towards the hatchway door making progress. Seeing his prey on the verge of
escape the Berserker pilot launched it’s shoulder missile, opting for an easy
kill. As the fang missile streaked down the corridor near the gap, which was
widening in size, it proved too much for the projectile sucking it too into the
vacuum. For Felix the vacuum had bought him the precious few seconds he needed.
With a shout of defiance he pulled himself around the hatch way’s side lip
opposite of Michael. “Close the damn door!” Felix yelled. Needing no further
encouragement Michael smashed the console button. As the outer door sealed
shut, both slumped to the floor momentarily exhausted from the events. Michael
knew that Tennying’s death complicated things drastically. Even though he
hardly knew the man, Michael felt a keen sense of loss of a good man. He sensed
Tennying had a moral code the man operated by. He knew he’d thumbed that code
somewhat when he had challenged Tennying over the destroyer’s crew. Even
through Tennying had complied at the sign of Michael’s threat, Michael had a
feeling Tennying would have compiled without the threat. Now Tennying was gone
he knew that would put a strain on the Dawn’s Horizon crew. Amanda’s voice
broke in over the intercom stealing his thoughts. “ Cup link’s retracted and we’re pulling free from the
excellor. Where’s Tennying? I can’t raise him neither can Otto.” Getting to his
feet a little shakily Felix got to the com link next to Michael, completely
ignoring him. “Tennying’s gone. “ Felix said blankly, “Get us the hell out
of here.” After a brief pause Amanda said, “We’re gaining distance, but we’re
not out of the woods yet. Need you at your station. Could use the flyboy here
as well. Company’s coming. I’m showing twelve Krant’s looking to get up close
and personal.” She reported. “We’re on our way.” Felix said. Switching off the comlink, Felix reached down, grabbing Michael by
the throat. Easily jerking him up, he slammed Michael hard into the hull.
Michael could see Felix’s eyes were bloodshot with heavy bags under
them. ” Military b*****d”, Felix said in barely controlled anger. “If we
didn’t need a second pilot, I’d crush your windpipe here and now. “he seethed.
“Tennyings blood is on your hands, and sooner or later I’ll hold you personal
accountable for it.” Beating against Felix’s metal gauntlets, Michael could only gurgle
out a choked reply feeling like his eyes would pop out of his head. From the
shadows both a high-pitched yowl followed by a long menacing hiss was heard.
Felix looked into a shadowy area between two creates. He barely made out the
faint outline of a a set of predatory like eye’s beaming back at him. Letting
Michael go he turned making his way towards the bridge, paying little or no attention
to the military personnel from the destroyer despite the gratitude they showed.
When Felix was gone Lt, Ross came over holding her side arm. “You okay? I saw him grab you by the throat. If he didn’t
let go when he did, I was going to put this blaster to use. What
happened?” Sitting prone on the floor Michael took several deep breaths before
replying, “Crew just lost their captain and they aren’t too happy about
it. Didn’t make it. Blames me.” Michael managed. “I’m sorry.” Lieutenant Ross offered. “What’s with that guy?
Has a look on him like someone pissed in his coffee? And what’s with those
metal gauntlets?” “Let’s just say he’s not overly fond of the confederation or
FleetCom. Long story best saved for later. “Michael said getting to his feet. “
Everyone ok? “he asked. “ As well as can be though were crammed in here like sardines.
Firefight with the Ralathi hit us hard. If not for you guys we’d be dead or
worse. Thanks.” Lt. Ross said. “we’re not out of the woods yet.” Michael
informed her. “What do you mean?” she asked looking confused. Michael
looked at her quizzically before starting towards the bridge, with Lt. Ross
hurrying to follow. To Michael she looked young and he’d bet she hadn’t been in
a lot of combat situations like this. “Your sensors didn’t pick up the fleet?” he asked. “Our sensors
went down with power grid when the torpedo took out our bridge.” She informed
him. Nodding he said, “ A fleet of thirty Kilrathi capital ships just
jumped in, and an army of fighters are on an intercept course for us.” “Oh My God...” She gasped. “There’s more Lieutenant, I’ll explain later. Right now I need to
get to the bridge. Stay with your crew and keep them secure as best you can.
We’re in for some heavy knocks.” He continued. Nodding, Ross saw several of her crew who didn’t look to badly
hurt. Heading towards them she got their attention. After a moment the band
moved off towards a pair of unopened med kits. Doing a quick scan Michael found
Ronnie kneeled down over a wounded crewman. With the imminent Kilrathi fighter
threat, and the close proximity of the destroyer still looming, Michael quick
stepped it out the cargo hold towards the bridge. As the Dawn’s Horizon pulled
further away from the excellor at least a dozen light brown dots fast approaching
and growing in size could be seen. Upon entering the bridge he heard Felix order, “Take the
co-pilot's seat next to Amanda.” It was not open to suggestion, not that Michael had one. Not
even glancing in Felix’s direction Michael sat, switching on the console’s
operating system. Michael had never flown a venture corvette before, let alone
one with modifications. The flight mechanisms were familiar but were located
differently. With little time to navigate through the system Michael looked to
Amanda for help. “Here, just manage thrusters and engine output.” Amanda said
getting up his console, “I’ll take the rest. “ Michael noted a thin layer of sweat on her face despite the cool
temperature on the bridge. She was nervous and afraid which if not for
Michael’s experience he too would’ve been too. He didn’t blame her. If the
Kilrathi somehow managed to capture everyone aboard then their deaths would not
be quick or easy. The cats were well known for playing with their prey before
granting them the peaceful slumber of death. With Tennying out of the
picture, it put Felix in command. Which even through as Tennying’s
co-pilot Amanda should’ve been next but she neither had the experience nor the
seniority for such a role. Felix likewise was making little headway in his new
position. “Nine minutes till fighter intercept. Five minutes till missile
range. What’s the game plan?” she asked in Felix’s direction. “Distance from destroyer?” he asked, ignoring her
question. “Three thousand one hundred meters, were still in the red zone.”
she said. “Engine output at seventy percent. “ Michael stated, and secretly
hinting at Felix’s next order. When Felix hesitated for a moment both Amanda
and Michael looked back at him expectantly. Stress lines carved the man’s face.
Both saw one of his gauntleted hands was slightly shaking. “Get the engines going as fast as you can. Get us to the jump
point.” He said through suppressed stress.” It was obvious to both he wasn’t
cut out for command.” Michael thought to himself. “What about the fighters? And
our cargo hold is full of wounded, If we go all out on the engines, the wounded
may not like the bumpy ride. Eight minutes till intercept.” Amanda stated. Every vein on the man’s head was bulged and hard at work
making an aneurysm. With a fisted gauntlet Felix began smashing his control
panel and roaring “ I hurt people! I break things! I’m a made freak! I don’t do
command!” he roared in rage. Smoldering sparks began appearing as Felix continued
smashing his station and the equipment nearby. Having enough of his antic’s
Michael went for his sidearm. Otto who’d been watching silently at his station
till now, beat him to the punch. A blaster shot raced past his head stealing
his attention. “Next shot goes right through your skull. “ he threatened.
“Take your damned temper tantrums somewhere else! I swear Felix you lose control
at the worst possible times. Get moving!” Otto yelled when Felix didn’t
immediately move. He gave Amanda and Michael a quick look lingering on Michael,
before exiting the bridge under Otto’s threatening gaze. Holstering his side arm, Otto continued, “Tennying was x-
military. I’ve never served, neither has she,” Otto said to Michael, “Given the
shitbag we’re in we could really use some leadership right now.” Taking a deep breath Michael tried to clear his mind. Sense his
arrival aboard the Dawn’s Star it had been nothing it had been nothing but
trouble for him and it didn’t look like it was going to change any time soon.
Could be worse he told himself trying to stay upbeat. Secretly he wished he was
aboard a military transport ship taking commercial traffic lanes back to Earth.
Fate it seemed had other plans. Instantly Michael increased the engine output
to one hundred forty percent. All three heard the increased hum of the ship’s
power core. “Otto get Ronnie working with Lt. Ross in bunking down the wounded
as best you can. Were in for some chops. Get weapon systems up and
powered. “Michael had heard Tennying speak of modifications that had been done
to the ship, he hoped that weapon’s upgrades had been one of them. He had no
idea on how he was going to save thier asse’s from a destroyer just aching to burst into a several hundred
megaton bomb and on the other end an
armada of bloodlusting kittens eagerly advancing closer looking to turn
everyone aboard into their own personal litter box. Quickly turning to Amanda
he asked, “ What’s the position of those fighters.” Having an idea pop in his
head he wasn’t sure if would work, but under the present circumstances it was
the best they were going to get at that moment. Leaning over Michael studied
her console screen. “Those Krant’s are almost in range.” Amanda warned. “Be
glad there not bombers or we’d already be dead.” Michael said getting up from his seat, and moving to the
bridge window panel. Outside on the hull of the Dawn’s Star four cruel looking
proton cannons came to life, their auto tracking systems fired to life and
hungrily tracking any would be targets. Two multi- projectile missile systems
burst up from the hull locking in place. Their advanced tracking systems
scanning. In back centered in the middle of its four Magton engines a
compartment opened revealing a load of magnetic missile mines. “Weapon systems
activated. “ Otto confirmed. “We should be clear of the blast, but barely.”
Amanda stated. “Turn us around.” Michael said spinning from the window. “What?”
both Otto and Amanda said stunned. “That’s right, Michael said hurrying to
Amanda’s console, pad leaning over Amanda’s shoulder. “ Are you nutt’s?” Otto
exclaimed. “Maybe.”Michael muttered to himself, getting back to his own
seat. Continuing he said, “ This may not save our collective butt’s but
it will surely buy us some time, if we survive that is.” Seeing Michael buckle
on his straps Amanda and Otto wisely followed suit. Outside, the Dawn’s Star’s
thrusters ignited spinning the corvette one hundred and eighty degrees with a
slanted downward pitch. The ship’s afterburners came to life surging it ahead.
No sooner had the afterburners died, the twelve Krant’s veered downward closing
even closer to the destroyer. Almost as one twelve missile’s raced out of the
Kilrathi fighters straight towards the Dawn’s Star. “Incoming missiles!” Otto
exclaimed. Hoping he knew what he was doing Michael cut engine power while
ordering Amanda and Otto to cut all systems except life support. “ What the hell are you doing!” Amanda asked sweating. “Saving our
collective asse’s I hope. “ he answered, feeling his own perspiration under his
arms. “We’re sitting ducks.” Otto protested. “Sitting or running a duck is a
duck. “ Michael remarked. Otto scoffed, grumbled something before cutting the
ship’s systems. Afterburner’s throttled full the Krant’s zoomed forward in line
behind their missile’s towards the now prone vessel. If the human ship somehow
survived their deadly missile’s, then their fusion cannon’s would finish the
mop up. Then without warning the excellor burst into a blinding brilliant white
light in a last cry of defiance. Growing in size the white light encompassed
the twelve missiles before evaporating into nothing taking them with it. A roaring yet silent shockwave birthed from the explosion followed
spanning out. As the wave hit the band of Kilrathi fighters it tore through
each one instantly vaporizing them to ash’s. The powerful wave rolled through
the Dawn’s Star doing a torrent of damage. The ship’s com relay tore clean off
leaving a trail of debris as ran into free space. A gaseous mist spewed forth
from one on the ships main engines. Sparked from inside the engines coiling,
one engine exploded disappearing in a brief fireball that spread damage to a
secondary engine. Armorants all over were ripped and battered bearing large
dent’s. While others were ripped clean off. The ship tumbling upward was lost in a violent spin. On the bridge
vent shaft’s began erupting boiling steam heating up the bridge and causing a
heated sweat to those on board. Warning lights began flashing, signaling
overheating of the reactor. All three were brutally jerked as the shockwave
coursed through and passed the ship. If not for their restraining harnesses all
three would have been thrown at breakneck speeds. As the shockwave died off all
three sat stunned and momentarily dazed. “Were alive?” Otto asked in disbelief.
“Looks that way.” Amanda croaked. “Looks maybe deceiving” Michael said rubbing
his neck. He quickly began powering up his console while trying to engage a
paramintere scan. Otto began powering up his systems followed by Amanda which
both systems gave a slight protest before booting back to sputtering to
operational status. “Get weapons and engines online. Reset course for the jump
point. Start working on a damage assessment as well. We need to be ready for
the next wave. Not that our odds have improved.” Michael said. “We’ve got two cooling unit failures for the reactor. I’m engaging
secondary’s, should stabilize the core. I�"“ “What?” Michael asked. Amanda bore a puzzled expression. “Scanners
show no approaching fighters.” She said. Unstrapping his harness Michael got up
and moved to her station. Looking at her screen he shared her puzzlement. “There moving away from us.” He noted. “We’ve got no Comm
systems, serious engine problems with some primary and secondary system’s out.”
Otto informed from his console. Michael barely heard him trying to figure out
why the Kilrathi weren’t bothering pursue. It didn’t make any sense to him.
Kilrathi were merciless. With a wounded ship they were easy pickings that the
cats would have killed for mere sport. To ignore a target such as them went
against the very nature the Kilrathi all together. Then eye’s widening in
understanding he had a bad thought enter his head, worsening by the second. If
correct, it was a terror that he was helpless to change. WELKER
BATTLE STATION Dakota
System COM
TRAFFIC AND SENSOR ARRAY CENTER
Ensign Jameson lazed fast asleep, his feet kicked up atop his
sensor console which had a continuous stream of data emanating from the screen.
Around him sat numerous empty stations all devoid of life. A dozen meters away
lined into the wall were several large window panels that offered a scenic view
of cargo ships, tug freighters, transports and other commercial traffic. The
midnight shift was always dull and boring, not that the day shift was any
different, which had been nothing new for the past month. Procedure mandated at
least four personal manning com traffic and sensor station’s at all times.
Except for the occasional incoming and outbound transports, everything seemed
at a standstill. Which for many wasn’t much of a surprise. Welker Station was a
battle hardened fortress that could withstand and repel the most intimidating
threats the cats could throw at her. Welker station was widely considered a
jewel throughout the confederation. The Kilrathi would half to be crazy to assault this station,
so for many that fact provided a measure of comfort to all. It was a major
stronghold for Confed and was the main protection for several jump points
leading to frontline colony systems as well a central hub of activity in this
sector, until recently. For almost everyone the debate’s in the Riley system
was drawing far more interest and attention than the boring and endless
routines aboard the station. With the pirate problems going on in Riley, mercs,
and freelance soldiers were all flocking there eager for a piece of the fat
contracts that were up for grabs. For the past several months patrol reports
always came back the same. No encounter or incuritions were found when Confed
fighters did their routine sweeps around the station’s outlining perimeters..
The arrival of Phobias crippled from a surprise attack, however had sparked a
wave of rumors which was currently racing through the station. For Jameson however
it was just another day. Hard asleep the young ensign wore a pair of large
headphones designed for picking up mechanical vibrations and thruster echo’s
created by ship engines. Hiding underneath them through were a pair of wireless
headphones playing the latest updates from the holo news? As he slept he didn’t
hear the numerous pings suddenly picked up by long range sensor arrays out in
deep space. Nor did multiple icon flashings that began beeping, draw him from
his slumber. The doors hissed open with ensin Hatcher coming through holding
two cups of near boiling coffee. Leaving for a long awaited half hour break
he’d gone to the mess hall for chow. “D****t!” he muttered when seeing Jameson
in a hard snooze. The first couple of times Hatcher hadn’t said anything knowing
how boring things had gotten lately. Yet, it was now becoming a constant
recurrence. For more or less aside from an occasional freighter or two the
system had turned ghost. For Hatcher though the recent inactivity didn’t
warrant one to neglect their duties. As he drew near the snoring Jameson,
flashing icon’s caught his attention. Curious he thought. No incoming ships
were due for the next few hours. Leaning over Jameson and being careful with
the coffee he set one steaming cup down, and scanning for a class count of the
incoming transponder signals. As he read the feedback, the second cup slowly
spilled from his hand pouring into Jameson’s lap jolting him awake with a
painful yell. Hatcher, hardly heard him staring in utter disbelief at the
screen. ·
* * * * T.C.S
Phobias The
Brig Cell-287 Rral’Mek heard his mother screaming. Roaring in agony as
flashes of her pierced mind Refusing to go away. More roaring, caused his ear
to twitch. Images of his mother tied and helpless pounded his mind. Then fire
encompassed her. Leaping up Rral’Mek jumped awake wide eyed and panting. Involuntarily Rral’Mek felt the remaining scar tissue of his
father’s mark. First his shameful youth, now his long forgotten mother. Rral’Mek had no idea why these deep buried memories were forcing
their way into his dreams. His father had rarely if ever spoken of her,when he was a
cub, and when did with a dismissive attitude. All he knew was that his father
feared her-- and it was that fear that had kept Rral’Mek alive throughout his
cubhood. Even when his father had passed into the warrior realm, he hadn’t spoken
of her. For all Rral’Mek knew she could well be dead. It was something he had
never had any intention to pursue. Opening that past path of his life was
something he was unwilling to do. His childhood he’d worked hard to
forget. As a warrior of the Imperial Empire and accomplished fighter pilot, it
was unbefitting. Rubbing his tongue over one of his fangs and feeling the carved
edges of his clan’s tattooed insignia brought him a measure of comfort. Pushing
these thoughts from him he would not allow them to soften him. Once softened,
then weakened. Weakness was a trait for prey. He was a predator, he
reminded himself. Strong, powerful, a hunter honor bound as a warrior. Looking around his cell and remembering the reality of his
situation. A captured hunter, but a hunter nonetheless. Just then, the sound of several metallic latches unlocking drew
his attention. The heavy metallic door pulled back several inches before
being slid back to reveal three armed soldiers. While two had their weapons trained on him, one stepped in saying,
“Stand up and turn around. Joy ride’s over.” All three wore a serious expression that they were not to be
tested. Rral’Mek had no intentions of testing them-- yet. “Put your hands behind you,” the leader ordered. After complying, Rral’Mek felt the cool mesh of what must
have been a pierce and slash proof bag over his claws followed by a pair of
cuffs. The process was repeated for each of his foot paws before leg chains
were added. “Turn around.” Came another order. Turning, Rral’Mek found a cold, hard gaze waiting for him. Behind
the man’s stare, his companions each had their weapons steadied at him. ” All we need is a reason.” The soldier warned, before stepping
aside. “ I offer no protest human.” Rral’Mek said. Nodding, the soldier turned exiting the cell, with Rral’Mek close
behind and the two remaining soldiers falling in behind. Turning out of the cell, Rral’Mek found himself in a long, narrow
hallway. Large steel cell doors lined both sides, but none offered any view
inside. The floor was gridded and uncomfortable for his padded foot paws.
Standing on the gridded surface, he could feel a slight electrical hum
emanating from the floor--causing his fur to stand on edge. He was sure that
many prisoners before him who made a scene had tasted the current that
waited. Continuing down the hallway it was midway before Rral’Mek’s
sensitive nose picked up a familiar odor. Sniffing he caught scent of the two
humans who’d beaten him earlier. A low rumble escaped his throat as he remembered the event’s
aboard the transport. Though his wounds had healed well due to the medical
attention of the humans he did feel a bit sore about his midsection. With more
pressing issues such as escape, it was a discomfort easily ignored. After exiting the hallway, the group entered a small
octagon-shaped room. It was the brig control room. Two more soldiers sat at
control stations; both looked bored. As Rral’Mek entered, one, the youngest of
the pair, looked over staring at him in fascination. It wasn’t uncommon to see
Kilrathi on the holo-channels since daily news was full of stories and the
latest updates of the war, but to see one in person and a prisoner was rare. ” Prisoner transfer to station brig.” The soldier behind Rral’Mek
said. “ Name and badge number,” said one of the guards,
disinterested. “Stevens, number 82411-3C.” Entering the number into the ship’s transfer
registration, he waited for the confirmation to come back. “Go ahead.” The guard said after a moment. The group moved to a turbo lift. As they passed, Rral’Mek overheard the younger guard whisper,”
Holy Crap! I’ve never seen one in person before. They look like big jungle
cats!” “Seen one, seen em all.” The other said. “Creepy.” The younger guard said. “Freaky is a better word.” The older said, “They’re killers.
Nothing but merciless freaks that are better off dead.” “ Right.” The other agreed. Both doors closed with the lift shaft starting upwards
towards their next destination. Rral’Mek knew time was running out for him. If
they reached the station’s brig, his chances of escape would all but vanish. He
had to make a play, and soon. But with three armed and trained soldiers, the
odds weren’t in his favor. Feeling the turbo lift slow, Rral’Mek chanced a
glance at the soldiers at his side. Both wore combat armor and carried standard
M-47 laser rifles that could make short work of him. Even if he did somehow
manage to get the jump on both, there was still the one in the back, which,
even with his hunter reflexes would be hard pressed to get to. Doors opening, the group entered a wrecked and debris littered
hallway. Lights flickered from power shortages along with console parts
frizzing back and forth to life. Obviously, damaged from the Kilrathi attack,
Rral’Mek picked up the faint odor of death from his nostrils. He noted no
active holo-cameras in the hallway. Both soldiers at his sides wore stoic,
bland expressions. It was the perfect place for a laser rifle to accidentally
go off in the back of his head. Entering, he saw the ceiling had exposed power lines running atop.
Then red neon lighting that was built into the walls began flashing followed by
an emergency siren. “What the hell?” one of the soldiers said. Seeing his opportunity, it was now or never. Rral’Mek did a quick
hop, bringing his knee up high and hard towards one of the soldier’s blaster
rifles. The soldier’s reaction was just as Rral’Mek hoped. The shot aimed high tore into the pipe lining. Superheated
chemicals spewed forth catching the soldier behind Rral’Mek right in the face.
Screaming the man toppled forward steam boiling off his covered face. Before
either soldier could react, he mull kicked one hard in the back. Thrown
forward, the soldier slammed into his companion--bowling them over. No time to waste. Rral’Mek quick hobbled around ,towards the soldiers.
Recovering quickly, both soldiers rolled while training their blasters on him.
Roaring in defiance, Rral’Mek leapt at them as one soldier got off a shot. Not
completely missing, the bolt sailed low, glazing past his leg. Ignoring the
pain and crashing into both, Rral’Mek’s jaws found and latched on one soldier’s
throat. Twisting he was able to get his leg chain’s around the second’s throat
as well locking down tight. A low hungry growl rose from his throat as both
soldiers panicked twisting and convulsing trying to break free. But neither his leg chain’s nor his jaws gave no yield, and after
several moments their jerking movements came to an abrupt end as death
found them. Rral’Mek had to suppress his hunter instinct that began to
surface as blood began seeping into his jaws from the human’s throat. Getting
to his feet Rral’Mek noted the emergency wail and flashing red neon was still
in effect. Thinking something serious was going on he hobbled to the remaining
soldier who was still on the floor moaning in obvious agony. Upon closer inspection,
Rral’Mek saw that the super-hot chemicals had actually melted parts of the
human’s face into his hands. Finding what he wanted Rral’Mek turned, and
squatting down removed his side arm. Holding and angling the weapon as best he
could, he gritted his teeth at knowing what was to come. With a finger claw on
the trigger, he compressed it. Pain blasted through his hands, stinging his
eyes as the bolt ate through the cuffs. Grimacing, Rral’Mek dropped the side arm doing his best to offset
the waves of pain that shot through his hands. After a moment the pain finally
began to recede. Flexing his claws and feeling blood flow returning to them,
Rral’Mek focused his attention back on the prone solder. Using his mouth he
pulled free both claw proof mesh bags covering his hands. A gurgled wail
escaped the man’s mouth as Rral’Mek’s hands roughly searched him. Rewarded, he
pulled free a small flat key coder chip. Matching it against a pair of small
inserts in his cuffs Rral’Mek again was rewarded when both handcuffs fell free.
Rubbing his wrist, he then removed his leg shackles, before returning to search
the wounded soldier and his companions. In the end Rral’Mek came away with a
utility belt, a confederation standard issue laser rifle with several
intact powerpacks, several combat knives, and I.D badge and a security
holo-card, and two useful looking grenades. He noticed a headset on the wounded soldier but after seeing the
harsh punishment of the green chemical splattered over the human, Rral’Mek
thought better of it. After securing everything on his person, his attention
fell back to the prone soldier on the floor. Aiming his blaster rifle Rral’Mek
hesitated pulling the trigger. The wounded soldier would obviously be scared
for life, his face and hands a ugly melting pot stuck to each other. Over head
the wailing sirens stopped but the emergency lights remained. A wave of
silence to overtake the hallway. He knew the human was no longer a threat to
him and would no longer be able to fight for his people in his condition.
Uncertainty ran through him. A cruel image of his father flared in his mind, bringing a wave of
anger and guilt with it. His hand began to shake. Pushing the memories aside with a snarl, Rral’Mek
pulled the trigger. Instantly his mind was assaulted with images of his
mother. Screaming, then overtaken by a roaring fire. Shaken, his breath came out in ragged gasps, forcing him to steady
himself against the wall. Fighting, he reminded himself he was a hunter, a
predator, loyal and honor bound to his clan and the Kilrathi Empire. His life
or death would bring glory to the empire and his people-- strengthening their
god given right to rule the stars as they saw fit. Slamming his fist against
the wall Rral’Mek focused his thoughts on getting off this damned ship and
rejoining his people. Continuing down the hallway, he left the three dead
soldiers. He still felt a slight pang of regret at shooting the wounded
soldier---as if the act was somehow dishonorable. Those who have no honor,
know no honor, he told himself trying to justify his actions which somehow
he couldn't explain he knew where wrong. Up ahead he spotted a four way intersection. Upon approach,
his ears twitched in alert at several loud clangs followed by a low rumble
echoing down the corridor. Blaster rifle ready, he cautiously peeked around the
corner. Another long empty hallway greeted him. Large hatchway doors were
stationed at certain points some closed others part way open. A large column of
panel windows was at the end, where the hallway split in two different
directions. Seeing that the coast looked clear, Rral’Mek limped around the
corner towards the windows. His only company was the flashing neon lighting in
the walls. He thought it odd-- the place was so deserted. Continuing, he saw
nor heard any signs of life. He’d expected a damaged carrier to be alive with
repair crew’s technician of some sort, yet nothing. The place was a grave,
silent and cold. His sensitive ears made out another low rumble with more clangs
and light metal grinding sounds. Approaching the window panels, Rral’Mek was
drawn in by the scene before him. Scores of both confederation and Kilrathi
fighters swarmed together in a mix of a huge firefight.
Closer in the background orbited a monstrous battle station, it’s
turret and missile batteries alive with fire in all directions. Further out in
space he made out several carrier groups and capital ship battle formations.
Still observant, Rral’Mek spotted a pair of Ralatha heavy cruisers supported by
a trio of Kilrathi corvettes dared the stations main batteries. At such close range, he had a firsthand view of the events. Half a
dozen torpedoes launched free from the cruisers, followed by several mass driver
shots from the main guns streaking towards the station. Likewise, each of the
corvettes fired a torpedo. Several Scimitar fighter bombers flew into view
sights on the Ralatha. Each exploded in a snuffed fireball destroyed by the
corvettes’ batteries. Rral’Mek watched somewhat hypnotized as three overly
large battery cannon’s on the station rested their aim on the Ralathas. It
seemed as if static somehow filled the air, causing Rral’Meks fur to stand on
end. Then three powerful shots burst forth towards the cruiser, just as the
torpedoes struck. Almost all, struck the massive cannon’s rotating gear’s
disabling the cylinder the cannon’s sat atop of lining a series of small
explosions. One bolt went wide completely missing the cruiser. The second
ripped into one of the four engines directly, causing a massive explosion.
Simultaneously, the third bullied into the cruisers midsection. The damage was
extensive Rral’Mek noted as another engine went out failing completely. Off
balance the Ralatha went into a hard spin towards the battle station. Rral’Mek
could tell there was no hope regaining control, the capital ship’s velocity
increasing with every turn. Drawing closer to the battle station the cruiser’s
angel suddenly veered towards the main battery cannon’s. Suspecting the captain
knew his ship was doomed Rral’Mek watched it smash into the station’s main
guns. Colliding into the cannon’s the massive explosion causing Rral’Mek to
reflexively throw up an arm shielding his eyes from the blinding light. At such
a close range he didn’t want to go blind. As the light receded his eyes widened
in horror spotting a monstrous piece of the Ralatha’s hull speeding in his
direction. Adrenaline surging Rral’Mek dropped in a silent prayer to Sivar it
didn’t plow into where he was watching. Luck was with him however, what would
have been a deadly impact ended in a near miss. The wrecked hull grading past
with an intense scraping sound. Heart pounding, he chanced a peek back up to
the window panel before getting to his feet. Where the brutal cannon’s had been
a large creator remained, littered with dozens of small creator holes alit with
blue and orange flames burning. Pride and a ferrous sense of honor flooded in
his blood at the destruction of the cruiser. It was a harsh blow for the
human’s station. Even in death the Ralatha’s crew, his people had found honor
while striking a vicious blow. The three corvettes now flanked by a pair of
Ralathi destroyers moved in on gained ground. Getting a closer look at the
approaching ships, Rral’Mek was able to make out their house insignia’s. His
joy instantly turned to disgust. Ears flattened he hissed angrily upon
recognition. All three corvettes and the destroyer belonged to House Nar’ Issk.
House Nar’Issk was a major power player within the empire and in a current
blood feud with House Ru’Karr Rral’Mek’s house. Both house elders had several
young princes of proven bloodlines. Each house was in fierce competition
against each other for the emperor’s personal favor. Which of course involved
privileges to the favored house that could possibly seal a position on the
ruling counsel. Both house’s had a kill on sight policy that was being heavily
enforced. If the corvettes and destroyers did indeed belong to house Nar’Issk,
it meant that no forces from house Ru’Karr would be involved. Rral’Mek’s eyes
widened in suddenly thinking back to the rumored gate jumping technology. If
Nar’Issk was responsible for its development, then it did indeed put Ru’
Karr in a grave position. The fact that
Emperor Y’rrowl had agreed to a joint strike force of the empires mainstream
fleets and ships belonging to house Nar’Issk was not a good sign . It seriously
complicated his present situation and commanded undeniable favor from the
Emperor to clan of Nar’Issk. Any run-ins with troops from Nar ‘Issk would be
instant bloodshed. He needed off this wretched ship but was unsure how to
proceed. He couldn’t wander around aimlessly. Rral’Mek didn’t want to chance an
encounter, but he knew how unrealistic that would be. Things were going from
bad to worse quickly. Not willing to try and navigate the human carrier, he
spun heading back down the hallway, with an idea. Back tracing his steps
Rral’Mek began making his way back to the security brig. By the time he reached
the turbo lift his leg was throbbing. Even through the human’s shot was a
glancing blow it was still painful. Taking a moment and reaching down he rubbed
the wound. Thankfully he felt no blood, just an intense burning sensation that
refused to leave. Remembering the button one of the soldiers pressed to operate
the lift, he pressed the same. A computerized voice announced, “Emergency
security measures have been activated. Hand print verification required.” To
the side a small keypad on a panel screen lifted revealing the outline of a
human hand. Understanding, Rral’Mek went back to where the three dead soldiers
lay. Pulling free a combat knife he cut off the hand of one of the dead humans.
Hurrying back to the lift, he inserted the limb lining up the digits with the outline
on the scanner.” Identification accepted.”, came the response as both doors
slide open. It took him a minute to remember which keys the soldier had pressed
before entering them. When the lift shot off, Rral’Mek began checking his
blaster rifle and readied a grenade in the other hand. He’d seen human
soldier’s use these nasty things and had to admit they could indeed make short
work of a Kilrathi foot soldier. Steading the rifle at the lift doors he waited
patiently. As the doors hissed open Rral’Mek jumped through, ready to unleash a
torrent of blaster fire at the first sight of a terrean soldier. To his
surprise the security brig was empty. Ear’s upright he scanned the room while
listening for anything out of place. In the corner he saw a security camera
he’d missed before. Moving quickly, Rral’Mek hid himself, against the backside
of the control station, out of view angled towards the hallway were the cells
were located. His timing couldn’t have been better as he heard the sound of
approaching footsteps.” Yes sir, both prisoners are secure. The Kilrathi was in
route to the station brig when the attack happened.” Rral’Mek recognized the
voice belonging to the older of the security guards, he’d seen manning one of
the control station’s earlier. The footsteps were getting louder. “I’ve been trying
to raise them but haven’t had any luck. It’s possible. Yes sir, ten minutes.
I’ll have them ready. The footsteps picked up in pace. Rral’Mek listened
attentively. Then the steps changed in sound telling him the security officer
was off the gridded floor taking the hard steel stairs onto the brig floor.
Popping up and catching the man completely by surprise he fired putting a hole
in his chest the size of a baseball. Tumbling forward, a data pad fell from his
grasp. Taking a quick moment he searched the guard coming away with another
headset like the one the human sergeant had used to communicate with him.
Hurrying past Rral’Mek moved down the cell block hallway, towards the area were
he’d picked up is two captures scent. Nostrils flaring, he had no problem
finding the area. He systematically began opening small steel window slots
looking in the cells. Sliding one steel slot back he looked in finding Jenkins
the scarier of the two asleep on a hard steel bunk. Slinging the blaster rifle
across his back, Rral’Mek unlocked the cell door and slung it back hard making
a loud bang. Jenkins jumped awake with wide panicked eyes. Finding Rral’Mek at
the door his jaw almost touched the floor. “No please! It wasn’t my idea!” Jenkins
cried, seeing Rral’Mek enter. Trying to backstep Jenkin’s back hit the wall. A
low growl erupted from Rral’Meks throat. Fast as lightning Rral’Mek grabbed
Jenkin’s by his jumper, forcing him back against the wall. Jenkins flailed at
captor trying to break away with no success. Grabbing him by the hair Rral'mek
brutally slammed Jenkins head against the wall. Stars swarming, Jenkins
collapsed all fight instantly gone. Rral'Mek proceeded to none too gentle
attach the headset to Jenkin's head he'd taken from the guard. He then hauled
Jenkin's to his feet. With hardly any effort Rral’Mek bent Jenkin’s wrist
inward brutally breaking it. Eyes wide all Jenkins could do was scream.
“Furless coward! I should crush the bones that attach your neck to your skull.”
Rral’Mek said threatening. Clutching his broken limb Jenkins began to sob. This
is no warrior Rral’Mek thought to himself. Taking a step back Rral’Mek released
him while pulling free his blaster rifle. “You will escort me off this vessel
or I will make your death unbearable, human." “This was my first
assignment. I’m new here. I’m not
sure I know were the hanger is from here.”, Jenkins said shaking. This was not
what Rral’Mek wanted to hear. “Very well.” Rral’Mek said. Jenkin’s spotted a
thin line of drool escaped from the Kilrathi’s jaw as he approached. Terror
filled Jenkins eyes as he could only think of what his captor was going to do
to him. “No! Wait! Wait!”, Jenkins pleaded holding up his good hand. “There’s a
main hanger four levels up! I remember the way now! We’re not far from a turbo
lift that will take us straight to it.”, he
stammered. “Move human, and know that your first mistake will be your
last breath.” Rral’Mek said shoving him
towards the cells exit. Jenkin’s stumbled through still clutching his broken
wrist, with Rral’Mek close behind. “Stop!”, Rral’Mek ordered. “Where is the
other?” “Other who?” Jenkins asked. “Your clan warrior.” It took Jenkins a
moment to realize the Kilrathi was talking about Henderson. “I-I don’t know. “
Find his cell. When Jenkin’s didn’t initially move Rral’Mek motivated him by
pressing the cold barrel of the blaster rifle against his back. Still clutching
his broken wrist Jenkins began looking in cells while fighting against the pain
with Rral’Mek keeping close tabs. After looking in one cell Jenkins stepped
back and with wary eyes pointed at the cell. Peering in he found Henderson also
asleep. Unlatching the bean hole Rral’Mek let it fall slamming into the door
with a loud metal thud. Like Jenkins Henderson
jumped awake, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Focusing on the window
slot he wasn’t able to make who or what the figure was peering in. As his
vision came into focus he was shocked when he saw Rral’Mek staring at him
through the bean hole. Shock turned to disbelief as two grenades fell through
fell through the hole into his cell.
Slamming the bean hole shut he turned and walked away hearing a faint
scream. Two echoed booms later, the scream died into a permanent silence.
It was all Jenkins could do not to vomit seeing a mixture of blood, smoke and
gore splatter onto the window. Blaster trained back on Jenkins he motioned him
forward. “ Keep your hands up and out wide.” Rral’Mek ordered. “ I can’t,
you snapped my wrist in two. I can’t take the pain.” “ Shall I eat your broken limb to numb your pain human?”
Rral’Mek heard Jenkin’s swallow. Entering Jenkins used his good hand to
activate the lift. “ Are you gonna kill me?” he asked breathing heavily. Seeing
his face going red Rral’Mek knew he was in pain. “ Listen, I didn’t do anything
to you. I only stood watch. That was Henderson who had his fun.” Jenkins
pleaded. Half-way turning he continued,” Look, I was against the idea from the
start. You won’t gain anything by killing me. No honor in it.” “This is not about honor ape man.” The lift stopped and both
doors opened. The pair entered another wrecked and damaged corridor. With
Jenkins leading the way they carefully navigated their way through the littered
pipes, broken ceiling panels and chemical spills. “Then what is this about?”,
Jenkins asked. “My freedom.” “My freedom... and revenge.” Rral’Mek said after a
moment. “But I didn’t do anything to you!”, Jenkins protested. “Guilty by
association, human. You would do well to accept your situation and brace your
death with honor. Yet your words drip with fear. The fear of prey. It reeks
from you as if you bathed in it.” Rral’Mek said. Keeping an eye on Jenkins,
Rral’Mek did a quick scan of the corridor noting how empty it and the others
had been. “Tell me human. Where are the crew of your vessel? I had expected
fierce resistance from your clan warriors.” “Everyone’s on the station.”
Jenkins explained, “Were undergoing a refit.” Jenkins said nervous and on edge.
It made sense why Rral’Mek had met so little human warriors after escaping
capture. His hopes rose that his escape might be easier than expected after
all. Up ahead a four way intersection came into view. Jenkins made a left with
Rral’Mek close behind. Several dozen meters down the pair saw a damaged turbo
lift, it’s doors halfway open. Inside, the lights flickered off and on. A few
feet away from them was a maintenance cart loaded down with tools. As Jenkins
began heading towards the turbo lift, Rral’Mek’s senses told him something
wasn’t quite right. “Stop! Be silent!”, Rral’Mek ordered. Looking over his
shoulder Jenkins watched his captor unsure of what was happening. Ears up and
alert Rral’Mek scanned the area his whiskers tingling. The air was thick and
heavy with a musty odor. He heard only silence. Seeing his captor momentarily
distracted, Jenkins seized his opportunity. Quickly snatching up a hydro-
coiler in his good hand, Jenkins spun hard, swinging the tool into Rral’Mek’s
blaster rifle. Caught off guard the weapon tore free from his grasp. “You ain’t
gonna kill me!” he screamed panicked and wild eyed. Swinging again the heavy
tool smashed into Rral’Meks wounded leg. Pain shot through his body as he fell
backwards. Heart racing, Jenkins dropped the tool turned running towards the
turbo lift as best he could, screaming for help. Rral’Mek momentarily rocking
on the floor, held his wounded leg before getting to his feet and hobbling
towards the blaster. Firing shots into the edge of the turbo lift door barely
missing Jenkins who slipped through. Growling in frustration Rral’Mek limped
after him. Shoving the doors apart, and entering he found the broken lift
empty. Looking up he saw a small shaft hole, a maintenance hatch of some sort
in the ceiling. Seeing it was too small for his muscular frame Rral’Mek
proceeded to unleash a dozen shots around the edge in an attempt to widen it.
Metallic tile tore loose tumbling down as the shots tore through. A sinister
grin spread over Rral’Meks face as he heard Jenkins scream from above.
Holstering the rifle, he jumped and pulled himself up into the shaft. Atop the shaft, the lift he found a ladder railing leading
up to the next level. “Furless coward! I shall clean my claws on your corpse!”
he swore up on seeing Jenkins a few meters above him. Not looking down, Jenkins
used his good arm to pull himself up the access ladder. The hatchway
doors to the next level sat open nearly a dozen meters up. Using all haste
Jenkins kept his eye’s upward determined to get away from his enraged captor
below who was quickly gaining ground. In
the doors above a Kilrathi warrior appeared. A disgusted look appeared on the
warriors face at seeing Jenkins below. Hissing the warrior fired several shots downward slamming
into Jenkins. Grip lost, Jenkins’s lifeless body fell. “Ca Riss!”, Rral’Mek
yelled partly shielding himself. Crashing into Rral’Mek, Jenkins body took him
all the way down smashing hard into and through the turbo lift ceiling. A nasty
spiker grenade soon followed. Eyes wide Rral’Mek flung Jenkin’s corpse aside
and desperately scrambled out the lift, just as the grenade exploded. Hands
covering his head Rral’Mek curled up as several hundred razor sharp metal claw
fangs tore the lift apart. Several found their way into Rral’Mek’s wounded leg,
causing him to bite down against the pain. Blood flowing freely, he stammered
forcing himself up right. White momentarily overtook his vision from the pain
and blood loss. He knew he had to get away from this area and soon, the blaster
fire and loud detonation of a grenade that echoed all around was sure to
attract unwanted attention. No matter how harsh. But wounded and in a
semi-daze he had no idea where to go, nor hide. Fighting against the protests of his maimed leg, he was now forced
to go at a snail’s pace half limping and dragging his leg. It was a long moment
before he reached the tool cart. Unslinging his blaster, Rral’Mek’s ears perked
up at the faint sound of running footsteps. Steading himself as best he could
against the corridor wall Rral’Mek’s head swam from the now freely running
blood from his leg. If he passed out now he was as good as dead. Two humans in
grease and oil stained uniforms hurried around the corner. Upon seeing a
Kilrathi in a blood soaked jumper holding a blaster their way, they both
skidded to a stop throwing their hands up. Knowing his condition was worsening
every second Rral’Mek knew escape was no longer an immediate option given his
current state. Frustrated he said “ You will take me to this ship’s healing
location, now!” unsure of the right word. Both humans looked at each other
confused. One made a quick jester with his hand, Rral’Mek didn’t miss. Eyes
narrowing suspiciously Rral’Mek shot the man. As the man fell dead cries
of, “Dad!” filled the hallway. Two small children a boy and girl ran from around
the corner to their dying father.
·
* * * * * K.I.S CHIR’PAR Ralatha Heavy Cruiser FLAGSHIP OF THE ATTACKING FORCE ON WELKER STATION. Shintahr Grr’Toliss watched the
attack on the human station with great pride. Events were unfolding in house
Nar’Issk’s favor excellently. The joint operation between Nar’Issk’s house
forces and Emperor Y’rrowl Jint’s main battle fleets was a splendid blend.
Victory would soon be within reach and would strike a major blow against the
terrean threat. As Claw Commander of House Nar’Issk’s fleets Grr’Toliss had outlined
the attacking strategy that would be executed against the Terran battle
station. A low rumbled purr emanated from his throat as he watched that
strategy now unfold. “ Commander, there is an incoming
long range transmission from Elder Pirr’Yrr.” A comm officer announced loudly
from his station. Turning, Grr’Toliss folded his muscular arms behind his back
careful to keep his claw bracers away from his cape. Each bracer contained a
row of fang’s down the center. Symbols of past victories over rival clan
leaders in Grr’Toliss’s younger years. Years he and his clan had climbed away
from the dead worlds into Nar’Issk’s powerful rankings. His shoulders likewise
bore two Kilrathi skulls, one from each warrior cast, with one skulls fang
completely missing yet doing little to diminish it's powerful statue. Inside
the other one was his beautifully crafted house emblem of Nar 'Issk
displayed proudly sitting in the jaws.
The fangs were enclosed covering the emblem slightly giving it a sure
hold. The emblem had been a gift from the lead elder of Nar 'Issk symbolizing
his status as a high ranking commander among the Nar 'Issk clan and their
endorsement of him as supreme hunter. Powerful arms blended well with his
muscular chest. Grr’Toliss’s mane was bushy but well kept. Like all high
ranking Kilrathi two beautifully gold and gem studded crafted fang cuffs shown
from one fang. Their gold chains climbing high into his pierced ears. His vest
and leggings no less magnificent in their own way was a mixture of the finest
materials and armoring’s that were well hidden in the clothing. “ Put the elder
on the main view screen. “Grr’Toliss ordered, eager to give news of their
impending victory to the Nar’ Issk elder. “As you command my warrior.”, the
comm officer said. The bridge of the Chirr’Par was impressive by Kilrathi
standards. Every station was encased in human bone that had been buffed and
waxed to a high shine. Kills from the hunting games on exotic planets within
the empire. Names honored warriors and ailra’hra fighter pilots from
Grr’Toliss’s blood line and clan were majestically inscribed on the bones, as
to never be forgotten and to be looked upon as a reminder of their honored
sacrifice to the empire. The customized bridge and whole of the Chirr’Par had been
a welcoming gift from the Nar’Issk elders to Grr’Toliss’s clan as well as
Grr’Toliss himself as a reward for completing the adoption trails. A main
walkway leading to a large overhead view screen separated the command bridge
with several rows of stations each facing each other. Down each side of the
view screen and just as large were a row of large computerized darkened
windows. Friend or Foe data icons could be seen next to all ships within its
view. The main view screen likewise was encased in the bone of a Ru’Pri beast.
A fierce monstrous canine like creature that could devour whole clans in a
single feeding. As Grr’Toliss approached two servants stood next to the
view screen with eyes and ears down cast in submission. Both held plates of
steaming meats and delicacies mixed with potent spices that stirred the hunger
of any Kilrathi that close by. The timing was excellent for Grr’Toliss it had
been hours since he’d eaten. Grabbing a leg bone, he completely ignored the two
servants. On the view screen a elder Kilrathi appeared sitting in a throne like
chair arrayed of polished bone and gems. “Honored Elder, “ Grr’Toliss said
lowing his head,” You grace my ship with your presence.” Lifting his head, he
took a large healthy bite of his meal. Pirr’Yrr’s expression remained
unreadable as he watched Grr’Toliss chew and swallow his delicacy. He knew such
a brazier behavior would hardly be tolerated by many house elders, yet he felt
confident his station and report would be enough to overlook it. After all if one
wished to be an elder, one must act like an elder. “Yes, Grr’Toliss, it is
agreed. My presence though not physical, dose indeed honor Nar’Issk’s carrier.
“Pirr Yrr said. Grr’Toliss didn’t miss Pirr Yrr’s mention to Nar’Issk’s carrier
instead of his carrier. “ What is the fleets condition?” the elder rasped. Pirr
Yrr was ancient by Kilrathi standards and should been dead years ago and would
have in Kilrathi culture. His eyes had a milky golden film over them. His main
was patchy despite efforts to keep his fur growing it could be seen falling out
on his face and hands. His fang’s were an ugly yellow and badly chipped all
over. The elders claws were as well dull and had lost there fine edge due to
the advancement of years on his body. Although dressed in the finest materials
the empire had jewels, ear cuffs, and the smoothest fabric dawned the elders
body. Many Kilrathi who first looked upon the elder saw a frail aged looking
warrior, with almost all missing the still razor sharp intellect and cunning
that had allowed the elder to climb high with the Kilrathi hierarchy. Yet as
the years had past, his cunningness had instead of declined had grown allowing
him to seal his position as an elder with in Nar ' Issk a powerhouse clan in
the Kilrathi empire. His bloodline was strong and well cemented in the
Nar’Issk’s clan having sired over a dozen daughters in his lifetime. Daughters
of beauty and purity, prizes to any Kilrathi high borne of station. To have
breeding rights with one was a great advance to one’s bloodlines and a big step
up the Nar’Issk social ladder. “ We have taken minimum loss. Our forces are
making quick advancements on the human defenses. By all reports our claw’s
close for a quick and merciless kill.” Grr’Toliss reported. Pirr Yrr sat back
digesting the news before replying, “ You have done well commander. Nar’Issk
will be proven beyond doubt to the Emperor and his council with this victory,
though not complete yet.” Pirr Yrr stated. “ These worthless humans are no
concern to the might of the empire nor house Nar’Issk. I shall erase their
existence from the universe so that not even a morsel of their tainted blood
will drift in the vastness of space.” Grr’Toliss promised, ripping off another
meaty chunk savoring it’s deep rich spice. Human quads was fast becoming a
favorite of his. “ Indeed Grr’Toliss you are a capable warrior and a powerful
weapon if Nar’Issk. However” Pirr Yrr warned pointing a gnarled clawfinger and
wheezing, “ do not take these human’s ingenuity lightly. Too many times have they
slipped past Imperial claws. Many on the emperor’s council grow tired of this
conflict.” “ This time there will be no escape. No unforeseen allies. No last
minute comebacks.” Grr’Toliss countered. “ My fangs are sharpened for the death
kill. With the fall of this station, so breaks their strongest weapon. Soon,
they will be nothing more than cornered prey.” “FOOL! Do not allow your
boldness to become arrogance Grr’Toliss. A cornered prey is when it is it’s
deadliest.” As if to emphasize Pirr Yrr’s point, a bright explosive flash
momentarily drew his attention to the window.
He knew a capital ship close by had just been lost, but he wasn’t about
to share with this with the Nar’ Issk elder. “To long already have we fought this
race. Long ago their home world should have fallen, and there remaining species
taken to our hunter worlds for our amusement. Yet, they and their confederation
remain despite our punishing victories.” “The time of Sivar-Eshad soon
approaches. You must have victory over the station in time for the for our
religious right to take place. The capture of this station will serve as
perfect new territory gained to commence the celebration and tribute to Sivar.”
“What is the condition of the gate? “ Grr’Toliss asked looking bored. At
Grr’Tolisse’s question Pirr Yrr bared two chipped and broken fangs with a
wheezing hiss escaping his throat. “The gate function is not your concern
Grr’Toliss. Concentrate your efforts on the human battlestation capture.” Pirr
Yrr said, side stepping the question. Seeing the elder overreact raised concern
for Grr’Toliss. The gate had been sporadically functional and still
experimental that had only been partially proven. Trans Jump technology allowed
a ship or ships instant travel across great distances that a normal jump drive
could never reach. This technology with its success had all but made the need
for jump points obsolete. The gate however was a critical part of
Grr’Toliss’s strategy and could not be in jeopardy. “The station will fall as
planned, my elder. And in time for the Sivar- Eshad to take place. I will not
allow the many warriors who no doubt have proven themselves to be elevated
beyond Kilra’hra to be denied the rite of the Sivar-Eshad. Though I tell you in
all seriousness, additional forces may be needed to hold the station. Human
ingenuity after all is a threat not to be ignored. You may well count that our
enemies know the dawn of Sivar-Eshad approaches and is a major event held
throughout our empire of our clans. We have the pounced on an unsuspecting prey.
Yet you and I both know this is a major installation for the confederation and
they will not let it go without a hard fight. I would certainly bet my
sharpened claw’s on a counter strike during Sivar-Eshad’s festivities.”
Grr’Toliss stated. He continued, “With that said honored Elder if there is a
situation with the gate I should know of, then do tell. It is a critical part
of my- our strategy and cannot be out of operation.” Finishing the last bite he
tossed the large bone towards the two waiting servant’s while motioning for
another. One servant came forward carrying his trey. Taking another morsel
Grr’Toliss watched the elder trying to get a read on his expression. “We have
had…… complications.” Pirr Yrr admitted taking his seat. “Complications?” Grr’Toliss
echoed. “Apparently only so many ships
can be sent at a time. Several dozen powers drives have melted causing an
inconvenient shutdown.” The elder confessed. Grr’Toliss’s ears flattened at the
news. This was no minor setback for him. “This complicates things greatly Pirr’
Yrr. Contingency forces will needed to offset the human reinforcements that are
sure to come. “The Nar’Issk elder
stiffened aback a rasped growl at Grr’Toliss’s disrespectful use of his name. “
Neither Nar’Issk nor Emperor Y’rowl will commit any more forces until complete
victory is secure, Grr’Toliss. Pirr’Yrr countered. Grr’Toliss threw his meal
down while stepping closer to the view screen, snarling, “ Complete victory
will depend on how soon the gate will become operational. I tell you now our
foothold is assured. This human installation will be ours, but more ships will
be needed to safeguard our new territory.” “The gate will be functional soon.
Even now repairs are underway. I am aware this foothold, will come with cost,
Shintahr.” Pirr Yrr retorted. “ I will forward your progress to the emperor’s
chancellor. When he hears of your success Grr’Toliss, have no doubt that he
will insist the Emperor send more forces to secure our foothold.” Grr’Toliss
didn’t like the situation with the gate nor Pirr Yrr’s position about immediate
support forces when the gate became functional again playing on Pirr Yrr’s
earlier words. Two thirds of the fleet was comprised of Nar Issk’s capital ship
forces. A heavy investment on top of researching and secretly building the
trans gate. Only those within the Nar’Issk’s highest position knew of its
location those along side with the Emperor and his select few. Emperor Y’rowl
had supplied the remaining third and would not commit anymore until the human station’s
capture. The Nar’Issk elders however had deemed it a worthy investment to gain
the personal favor of the Kilrathi Emperor, which so far they had. The Emperor,
up on seeing the gate’s completion had agreed to the joint strike venture on Welker
base and had offered resources to continue to power the gate for researchers to
fine tune the machine. Nar ‘Issk couldn’t afford much more forces though, not
with the looming threat of House Ru’ Karr. A fierce blood feud between the two
houses was in progress and didn’t show any signs of slowing. If the Nar’ Issk
elders left Nar’Issk too exposed the Ru’ Karr wouldn’t hesitate to exploit that
position without haste Grr'Toliss wouldn't put it past Ru 'Karr to take the
jump tech for themselves and thus take the emperor's favor. Internal clan civil
wars had dominated much of Kilrathi history and were an ever present part of
their culture. It was one of the ways weaker houses were culled to make way for
the stronger houses to climb up the Kilrathi ladder to places of power and
influence. Grr’Toliss had no doubt that once Emperor Y’rowl’s favor had been
sealed clan Nar’Issk would turn it’s full attention to the troublesome Ru’Karr.
He secretly hoped Nar’Issk wasn’t being too were eager to gain the
attention and favor of the Kilrathi Emperor, but then what major House within
the Empire didn’t desire such state. Knowing little else could be gained from
Pirr ‘Yrr Grr’Toliss lowered his head in submittance though annoyed. “ Of
course, my elder.” he said. As the view screen went blank Grr’Toliss turned
heading towards the com station. “Ready a report, include all ship counts,
outlining advances of our battle strategy, and enemy ship count and class. Let
our elder see how easily the pathetic foes perish under our claws.” Grr’Toliss
ordered to his com officer. “By your lead claw commander. My lord, I have an
incoming priority message from Prr’Roliss.” Grr’Toliss hissed in anger and
extended his claws,” Address him again without proper reverence, and I shall
carve a trophy for him out of your bones.”
The com officer’s ear’s instantly flattened in submitance at the claw
commander’s threat. “Forgive me, my commander. My duties had me momentarily
distracted. The fault was not intentional, my honored warrior.” “Go and prepare
the report, and pray I remain in a pleasant mood.” Grr’Toliss ordered. Not
looking in the commanders direction, the com officer quickly left the bridge.
Pressing a flashing icon Grr’Toliss saw a young Kilrathi appear on the view
screen of the com officer station. The young warrior was a spitting image of
Grr’Toliss himself though his golden mane was fine trimmed and less bushy.
Along with having powerful feature that were sharpened and edged ,two silver
chrome colored fangs protruded from his upper jaw. His eyes were a fiery red
and not the common light or darker brown found in most Kilrathi. “ Greetings my
honored pride cub. Grr’Toliss greeted. “ I assume you we have our foothold
aboard the human station and you are to inform me now the human’s flee from our
ground forces.” Grr’Toliss stated. “ We have gained a foothold my father though
the humans defend every inch with the heart of a Vrr’Chisst warrior. More
ground forces will be needed to continue the press.” his son said. Pirr’ Yrr’s
earlier words about a cornered prey echoed in his mind before he pushed them
away. His heart swelled with pride at his son’s report. A major step had been
completed. Part of Grr’Toliss’s strategy was to use the human carrier as a
staging area for advancement for their ground forces, into the human battle
station. From Grr’Toliss’s point of view far easier and much less costly was it
to dare the crippled carrier’s broken defenses, then the menacing battle
cannon’s that could demolish a capital ship with one direct shot. “ Fear not my
pride cub. I have six heavily loaded troop transports for your convenience with
more waiting.” In the background several small explosions and blaster fire drew
his gaze. “ Careful you do not fall prey
to the furless ape’s tactics, Prr’Roliss.” He added, seeing several warriors in
the background fall dead under blaster fire. “Better a death in battle, than to
age into nothingness in the misery of peace.” His son retorted. Again his heart
washed over in pride at his son’s response. The answer of a warrior. Prr’Roliss
was his pride cub, his first born from his first litter. Believed to be the
strongest and with the fiercest blood of any clan leaders they were shown and
given special treatment all the stages of their lives. They were groomed from
birth to one day take over the clans until adoption to the next level in the
Kilrathi step ladder. A nearby huge explosion caused him to momentarily duck
away. The screen went blank momentarily before Prr’Roliss’s face returned
hissing angrily. “Continue your advance Prr’Roliss, I shall order the
transports to launch.” “Excellent honored father. “ Prr’Roliss said giving a
claw salute, “For the honor of house Nar’Issk and to the glory of the Kilrathi
empire. “ Turning as the screen went blank Grr’Toliss did indeed feel lifted.
Not only from the progress Prr’Roliss made but from the fierceness of his
warrior son. Prr’Roliss was an excellent testament to Grr’Toliss’s bloodline.
And with the battle station’s capture would secure him breeding right with one
of Pirr Yrr’s younger daughters, allowing him to sire hirst litter. A soft purr
began emanating from his throat as his thoughts drifted towards his future cubs
children. That purr grew into a low rumble when Grr’Toliss thought of his own
reward. Returning to the bridge window he continued watching the assault on
Welker Station. Today was going to be a good day. ·
* * * * T.C.S PHOBIAS Main Hangar Bay “ Harris! Get Rice and Collins over
here now!” Leeba yelled over the roar of blaster fire and explosions. Popping
up from behind his cargo create Leeba unleashed a punishing torrent of blaster
fire towards the Kilrathi line. One shot weather luck or skill caught one
warrior dead center in his forehead throwing him backwards. “ Serg!” Harris,
Leebas’ second called. Quickly dropping back to safety Leeba spotted Rice and
Collins both young marines sporting heavy duty Bi-Rocket launchers were
hurrying towards his direction. Motioning them to hurry Leeba peeked out doing
a quick survey of the hanger. Two large doriathi transports sat near the
hydro-nano mesh screen that led to the launch way into free space. Kilrathi
warriors were hurriedly forming up to create a front line with more
pouring out from both transports. He saw several groups setting up gatling
cannons aimed at their position. Not a good sign. Further back Leeba’s gaze
fell on a towering Kilrathi wearing intense looking chrome armor speaking into
a built in console in his forearm. That’s the officer Leeba told himself. Even
from behind his create and a good distance away Leeba was able to make out two
blood red orbs in the warriors face accompanied by a wicked pair of chrome
fangs. He knew the whole appearance was designed to make the Kilrathi appear
more threatening and cruel. He had to admit it was working as he fought to
suppress a cold chill. The hanger was a littered wreckage of fires, dead bodies
and complete chaos which if his instincts were correct, would only be getting
worse. His own troops not badly outnumbered, however were pressed down
and trapped behind supply containers using the hangers columns and
stationary fighters for cover. They were effectively cut off from any kind of
retreat forcing them into an unwanted firefight. A blaster shot fired in less
than a foot from Leeba’s face causing him to flinch back. “Jesus!” he cried
snapping back. Rice and Collins both rushed over from a nearby container
dodging fire to Leeba’s position. “Serg! You ok?” Collins asked. “I almost got
my face shot off, what do you think!?” he snapped back. Breathing heavily, Rice
did a quick sneaky glance over the crate. “ If they get that front line set
we’re gonna be up s**t creek.” The young soldier said huffing. “We’re already
knee deep in it, so not far to go now.” Leeba retorted wiping a line of sweat
from his forehead. At that moment all three heard a metal like pounding sound.
Like Rice, Collins did a fast up and down. “Damn!, those furballs are locking
their nasty fang shields.” She to had to duck down dodging fire that nearly
took her head from her shoulders. For Leeba this was unacceptable, once that
front line was made, next would be a secondary row loaded with blaster and
missile fire followed up by the gatling turrets coming online and then their swift
ends. He needed to but time for reinforcements to arrive. Looking up towards
the roof he suddenly got an idea. “ Give me your Bi-Launcher.” He ordered to
Collins. Pulling out his comlink and catching Harris’s attention he shouted, “
On my mark all units move forward!” Harris’s smolt covered features gave him a
confused look. Leeba motioned for him to look up. Eye widening Harris’s boyish
features went white with dread, seeing what Leebad had in mind. Following suit
Rice likewise had his bi- launcher loaded and ready.” Aim for one of the bases
were it connects to the rail. “ Leeba ordered. “ what if the ceiling tears
down?” Collins asked worriedly. Taking aim Leeba said, “Let’s hope that doesn’t
happen.” To his right where several structure columns supporting an upper deck
level. A trio of marines were shielded behind them trading fire against
Kilrathi troops. Catching their attention Leeba screamed,” Cover fire!” The
trio gave Leeba a thumbs up, taking aim. Popping up both Leeba and Rice
fired, releasing four high explosive missiles towards the massive electric over
hydraulic arm crane. Nearly the size of a small corvette, the arm crane
operated on a four track rail system and was used to shift fighter/bombers,
transport and fire hog to the repair and maintenance decks on the hanger’s
upper level. All four missiles hit the base of the crane were the gears
connected to the railing, causing a large explosive and a hailstorm of debris
to shower down. Breaking loose, one of the base’s swung downward pulling the
steel beams with it. The stress proved too much for the remaining base coming
down as well. As almost thirty tons of hard steel tumbling down. Kilrathi
warriors scrambled in panic in all directions desperate to avoid being
flattened. Slamming home with a thunderous crash, part of the arm crane toppled
against the transports fuel cells. The impact resulted in both fuel cells to go
up in a volatile explosion. Pure chaos ensued wrecking the Kilrathi lines as
Gatling turrets and warriors alike were squashed flat. Those lucky enough to
survive quickly fell prey to marine blaster fire. “Charge!” Leeba screamed.
“Take back ground!” he ordered. Cheering and shouting Confed marines pressed
forward blaster rifles alive with fire, cutting down any Kilrathi foolish enough
to be caught without cover. Trying to recover, Kilrathi warriors hurriedly
retreated mostly behind the downed crane
finding cover behind it. Confed marines with Leeba leading the charge, took up
positions encircling the two Kilrathi transports. From behind the arm crane
warriors appeared firing their brace blaster. Leeba dived behind a cargo lift using
the vehicle for cover. Harris and Collins who’d been close behind likewise took
cover behind the lift. Just then two spiker grenades came over landing right
next to the trio. Both Leeba and Collins quickly grabbed one each and popped
over the vehicle to throw them back. Quicker than Collins, Leeba threw his
ducking back to cover. Collins however wasn’t as fortunate as several rapid
fire shots tore through her steel threaded Kevlar armor turning her body to
Swiss cheese. Horrified Leeba watched the grenade fall from her lifeless hand.
Adrenaline pumping he dived catching the cruel grenade in his hand. In the same
motion he tossed it aside, praying he too wouldn’t not become Swiss cheese.
“Get Down!” he yelled covering his head. No sooner had he spoken the grenade
detonated into hundreds of razor sharp claw like shredders that pummeled the
area. Rolling against the cargo lift Leeba wiped a thick layer of sweat from
his forehead. He was getting to old for this. Harris began, “Serge! We
can’t---“Leeba’s comlink suddenly sputtered to life with Lt. Commander
Wedgeworth’s voice. “Keep those damn animals at bay!”
Leeba barked cutting Harris off. Into his comlink he barked, “ Where the
hell are my reinforcements!” “ they are in route Sergeant.” Wedgeworth said
keeping an even tone despite Leeba shouting at her. “ We are effectively cut
off,” he continued, “ if we don’t get backup quick fast and in a hurry you won’t
have anyone to give orders to down here.!” Continuing she said,” All
support forces are tied up in other sections of the carrier, the Kilrathi are
attempting to use Phobias as a staging area for their advance. I’ve sent you
everything left to help keep the hanger secure.” the commander said. “
Sergeant, sensors indicate six incoming transports headed towards the Phobias.
Base cannons can’t target them there. Using Phobias as cover not giving the
station a clear shot.” “ Well take them down with the fight/bombers” Leeba
scoffed. “ No can do Sergeant, all forces are tied up in the stations defense.
We’ve got a full plate dealing with Kilrathi capital ships assault transports
and carrier fighters. We’re lucky to still have our defenses up.” She
explained. “ You need to find a way to activate the hanger doors and prevent
entry into the hanger.” Harris who’d been listening fired several shots towards
the downed crane. “ Did I hear her right? She’s nuts the hanger’s gone! We need
to fall back and regroup!.” he shouted over the blaster fire. “ What’s
the e.t.a?” Leeba asked ignoring Harris. “ At current speed and course, eleven
minutes.” “Ya, good luck with that.” Leeba muttered. “ Come again Sergeant.” Wedgeworth’s voice
said through the comlink. “ I said that’s a no go Lt. Commander. It’s a
shitstorm from hell down here. Like it or not the furballs are gaining ground,
I don’t think we can hold the hanger. Besides the main controls are on the hanger bridge and
we’d never make it there in time.” Ducking down Harris asked,” Well, what about
the emergency restraints!? We could release those and that would trigger the
doors closed.” “ No good.” Leeba said shaking his head. “ The control main
panel is stationed behind those b******s. We’d never get past them before they
cut us down.” “’ Lt. There’s no way too---,” “ Wait! Wait!” Harris blurted, “
We can blow up the power generators!” he exclaimed. “ What?” Leeba asked. “ The
generators Serg! That power the nano-mesh screen. Take those out and the screen
fails! It’ll trigger the failsafe restraints releasing the doors.” It was a
long shot with two transports and several scoren of Kilrathi warriors in
the way. But it was better than doing nothing. Nodding in agreement Leeba could
think of nothing better and it wasn’t as if they had a lot to work with in the
middle of an intense firefight. “ We might be able to do it. Call you back in
nine. Leeba out.” he said into the comlink. From the direction of the downed
crane the Kilrathi suddenly stopped firing. Several loud clangs followed by a
long hissing echoed through the hanger. Both Leeba and Harris with a few others
came partway out of their cover. More hissing added in with heavy metallic
stomps could be heard. From behind the crane came roars and shouts. “ I have a
bad feeling about this Serge.” Harris mumbled. “Me too” Leeba confirmed. Then
leaping up from behind the crane appeared the Kilrathi Leeba had seen earlier.
Crouching atop the downed crane he held his fang shild in one arm while
sporting a horrid looking metal like claw whip in the other. “ Cu riss
Brr’Yrril Kirrisst Gri’pros cariss c’virr, hiruillas!” he shouted to the cheers
of his comrades. One marine fired a shot at the vanguard warrior. His aim true,
the shot struck deep in the warriors shoulder armor. Not even flinching the
warrior lashed out with his claw whip. Too exposed from cover the blade like
whip struck the soldier dead center in his head carving straight through to his
neck, before the vanguard pulled free. Then as his dead body fell to the floor,
two berserkers in full bi-ped leaped over the crane landing heavily onto
the floor. “All units fall back! Repeat all units converge to the main hatchway
exit.” Leeba ordered knowing they had no firepower that could take down the
Kilrathi heavy mech units. One of the mechanical brutes converting to its
quadruped form took aim on Leeba and Harri’s cover. “ Aw man, this is gonna
suck!” Harris groaned seeing the berserker pound forward with thruster jets
alit. It’s shoulder fang slammed into the heavy duty cargo loader, with Leeba
and Harris diving away. Lifting the whole loader stuck on it’s shoulder fang,
the mech unit powered almost through one of the column’s with the loader.
Spinning, the loader fell away into two broken pieces. “ I really hate those
things!” Harris bellowed. Going back to
it’s bi-ped stance, the pilot inside saw its prey laying on their backs. Leeba
and Harris fired to no avail. Rice along with several others threw smoke and
flash grenades trying to attract it’s attention. With one wicked looking claw
hand it slung a piece of the loader their direction. Rolling in opposite
directions they both narrowly missed being made roadkill. Pulling free his
comlink he screamed to whoever was listening,” Where are my damned reinfor---“.
From above and behind came several
proton shots streaking down towards the berserker. The shots struck the
brute directly in it’s protruding missile head. A hard shot to make to be sure.
Both mech unit and pilot inside went up in a showering explosion, the blast
enveloping the berserker and the surrounding area. Leeba took a nasty
gash across his head as a hailstorm of debris littered the area. From above on
the repair deck a scorn of confed marines came into view bringing a new spark
of hope with them. Cheers erupted as two arrow drones zoomed over head their
twin turbo blades churning rapidly and their massive proton cannon’s wreaking
havoc on the Kilrathi, destroying any hope of establishing a front line.
Getting to his feet Leeba quickstepped it over to Harris who likewise was
getting up. “ Hurry up! We’ve got to get those generators disabled or we’ll be
over run.” Leeba was unsure of how exactly he was going to knock out the
generator’s. Even with reinforcements he didn’t have the firepower necessary to
punch through the Kilrathi and knock out both generators. All around them the
fire fight was intensifying. Even with reinforcements it seemed the best the
confed marines could manage was a stand still. That standstill however would
quickly turn if they couldn’t get to the generators. Running the pair ducked
behind several columns supporting the upper level were the reinforcements were.
“ Serge! Look!” Harris said pointing. Following Harris’s gaze Leeba’s eyes fell
on a pair of fire hogs. “ Damned right!” he exclaimed. If berserkers we’re an
ever present thorn to confed soldiers, then FireHogs were there clippers. Heavy
duty they could pack a mean punch against berserkers, and what they lacked in
quick mobility they more than made up in fire power. Both Leeba and Harris saw
two powered down at a repair station in the corner of the hanger. Surveying the
area Leeba found Rice and a couple others hunkered down behind some containers.
Waving he was able to get their attention. “ Rice! Get whoever you can and
meet us at the columns!” Leeba shouted into his headset. Rice gave him a
thumbs up, at Leeba’s transmission. Targeting one of the berserkers an arrow
drown briefly came into view. The drone released a proton blast towards the
berserker. On all fours the mech unit ignited thrusters and easily side leaped
the shots. Two gatlin's flanked on its
back unleashed a punishing array of shots that struck the drone’s turbines.
Spinning out of control, the drone smashed and exploded in the upper deck were
reinforcements had entered. Screaming ensued, as several marines toppled over
the railing their bodies an inferno. Knowing nothing could be done for the
brave men Leeba gave them a quick death with his blaster. “ GOD, rest their
souls.” Harris said crossing his heart. Dodging fire, Rice followed by three
soldiers, took cover behind a column next to Leeba. “ This place is going to
hell in a handbag, Leeba!” Rice exclaimed. “ What the hell are we still doing
here! The hangers lost!” Leeba watched Rice’s gruff features turn to dread as he
said about the incoming transports. “ Well ain’t that sweet, Serge. What are we
gonna do about it?” Pulling free a power core Leeba locked into his blaster
while saying, “ Me and Harris are gonna make a run for those Hogs in the
corner. You four give us some cover.” “ Damn I hate this job.” Harris
complained while smiling.” What if we get gunned down.?” “Part of the job.”
Leeba answered. “ Why I signed up in the first place. Fierce battles, gory
deaths all in the name of the human genome.” Harris laughed.” Shut up and get
ready.” Leeba barked. Turning to Rice he said “ If we go down, you gotta get to
those Hogs, get those generators knocked out or these b******s will have a red
carpet entrance all the way to the station’s front doors.” Rice wanted to protest
his serge making the attempt. He was younger and in better shape, being not
even three months outta boot and eager for some action. Not saying that Serge
was over the hill. Yet Leeba and Harris were the only ones who qualified to
operate the Hog’s anyways. “ You got it Serge.” Rice said in all seriousness.
Nodding Leeba tossed him his blaster. Taking several deep breaths and
peering around the column he said “ On three.” Rice and the three soldiers
readied their weapons. “ Three!” Leeba shouted. Running full speed Leeba and
Harris broke for the FireHogs as Rice and the others laid down a full auto
suppressing fire. Wrecked containers, damaged fighter parts, and chemical fires
were at almost every turn slowing their pace. Halfway there Harris blurted, “ I
can’t believe we haven’t drawn more attention yet.” Several Kilrathi appeared
next to their transport and began firing in their direction. “You got a big
mouth you know that!” Leeba huffed. “ It’s what I’m known for!” Harris said,
panting. Zooming into view came the remaining arrow drone, targeting the
concealed Kilrathi. Two massive proton shots struck their area forcing them
back behind their cover. “ We just might make it!” Harris exclaimed. Closing in
on the firehogs Leeba’s hopes agreed with Harris. Those hopes came to a
crashing halt when the remaining berserker leaped high into the air it’s
Kur’rit blade fully extended slicing into and through the arrow drone. The loud
explosion caused Leeba and Harris to look back just as the berserker landed
heavily on the floor. Going back on all fours, it’s thruster jets fired as the
brute began charging their way. “Run!” Leeba and Harris exclaimed together.
Hurring the last dozen or so meters the pair reached the FireHogs. Quick
stepping it up the elevator stairs Leeba jumped in the cockpit and fired up the
Hog’s power system’s with Harris following suit. “ You go for the generators
I’ll take care of fluffy.” Leeba said nodding towards the oncoming berserker.
Not waiting for Harris to reply Leeba shut the cockpit hatch just as the
firehog came to life. On its incinerator unit a mean looking flame appeared.
Inside a main view screen two tracking sensors came to life along with several
secondary systems. Weapon’s up and running Leeba took aim with the hog’s napalm
grenade while stepping forward. Thruster jets firing the berserker darted
sideways while returning fire with its Gatling turrets. Slightly smaller but far quicker it took
another sidestep while aiming its fang missile.
Likewise Leeba took aim with Hog’s quad action shotgun. The missile
exited the berserker with an explosive burst, just as Leeba began firing. The
recoil action forced his firehog to stammer backwards slightly. Heart racing he
watched the missile go up in a violent haze. Not more than a dozen yards from
his position. Even through the shielding and metal cockpit he could feel the
intense heat of the explosion. Already knowing what was coming behind the fiery
inferno Leeba reloaded and readied his battering plate. As the berserker
charged through the smoke it’s should fang leveled at Leeba’s cockpit. Leeba
fired another round while punching forward with the battering plate. Part of
the shot with the battering plate struck true. Hammering the berserker in the
shoulder. Leeba side stepped as it rushed past off balance crashing into the
repair station behind him. “Serge, got a problem here.” Harris’s voice came in
on the intercom. “ Never fails.” Leeba thought to himself. “What?” “Hog’s
ignition circuit is fried. I’ve tried a hotwire but it’s not working. Gonna see
if I can bi-pass somehow. If not then there’s no way I can fire this sucker up
without over hauling some serious circuitry. “Do what you can Harris. If it
won’t fire up then stay out of sight someplace safe. I’ll take a crack at the
generators alone.” Serge, you can’t-“ “We’re running out of time. Stay put and
low.” Leeba said cutting him off. Switching off the intercom he made his way
towards the first generator. Gatlin turrets erupted to life firing their
protest his direction. Brace blasters, grenades all hammering away at the fire
hog to little avail. “ Ha! Ha! Sucks doesn’t fur balls!” Leeba taunted smiling.
Generator in range he firered several napalms grenades that each exploded into
the generator. Going up in a huge fireball. Kilrathi scattered everywhere. Some
ran out from cover which were quickly gunned down by confederate soldiers
without mercy. Leeba’s victory however was short lived, as out of nowhere, the
remaining berserker charging his way barreled into and bowled him over.
In the same movement the brute extended it’s nasty kur’rit blade slicing down
and through the fire hogs quad-shot gun arm taking the whole limb clean off.
Blade raised for another strike this one aimed at Leeba’s cockpit, it was all
he could do to get the hogs straight blade up in time to intercept. Leeba felt
the harsh impact vibrate into the cockpit. The berserker with an extra limb to
spare began to rake through the Fire Hog’s armor towards Leeba. Strattled and
with limited options to work with Leeba could only think of one thing, that
would probably kill him too. He began turning the hog’s napalm muzzle directly
under the berserker. Gears and pulleys whined as the berserker fought to throw
the limb down. With the muzzle directly under its chin Leeba knew it was now or
never. Smiling he said, “Tear through this!” and pressed the napalm trigger.
The explosion was on par with that of the missile except at a much closer
range. The thunderous blast blew the berserker clean in two just above its
midsection charring the Kilrathi pilot inside to a crispy cinder. An intense
heat rose up after the violent blast wreaking havoc on the Fire Hog’s structure
and it’s systems which all erupted in a volcano of sparks. Leeba’s cockpit lit
up like a furnace threatening to cook him alive inside. Amazed he was still
alive he quickly began to undo his harness while disengaging his motion cuffs.
He needed to hurry before the napalm began melting through and things really
got hot. Reaching to open the cockpit latch Leeba found that it wouldn’t budge.
An old war vet and marine there wasn’t much that couldn’t shake Leeba’s
confidence but panic started to set in as he tried harder to no avail.
Screaming he frantically beat on the cockpit plating. Eventually the screaming
gave way to the roaring fire that was setting in and overtook the Fire Hog. All
the while a figure in the shadows stood observing in pleasure at Leeba’s
agonized screaming. A figure wearing chrome armor. After what seemed and
eternity, Leeba awoke with every nerve alive and on fire with pain. He fought
to draw breath against the smoke filled cockpit. Somehow he was still alive.
When he tried to move that pain soared to new and undiscovered heights.
Suddenly several thuds followed by a scraping sound drew his attention. Someone
was digging for him, moving debris out of the way. A breach of light flooded
the cockpit that momentarily blinded him as the cockpit top was torn up and off
the Fire Hog. As the pain receded from his eye’s Leeba made out a lean muscular
figure standing over him. “ Rit hr’ruot chi’tuilk nas, hi’risst.” It said in a
growl like voice. “What?” Leeba managed to half croak. A sinister laughing hiss
echoed before it said, “ I said, You have failed, human.” The last memory to
enter Leeba’s mind before unconsciousness took him were the two blood read orbs
peering down at him. * * * * (Terrean Network News) Attacks in
Riley’s mining operations continue to worsen as pirates grow bolder in mineral
raids. Several prime targets were struck in rapid succession all with pirate
raiders making off with an overall estimated mineral value ranging in almost
half a billion. Commercial shipping lanes as well have come under repeated
assaults from pirate attacks. Despite increased security patrols by
Inner.System.Security, security forces have been unable to track or locate the
pirate’s base of operation. While I.P.S suspects the pirates are using more
than one base to launch their attack operations, efforts to locate their bases
have not successful. Whispers are spreading that pirates and would be rogue
operators are getting help from the inside the Riley system are growing
and gaining favor among in system merchant’s. One merchant who requested to
remain anonymous commented, “ There’s no way these repeated attacks couldn’t be
so success unless these vagabonds were getting help from the inside. It would
explain so much on how they are always at the right place at the right time and
always with the right amount of firepower to take down security forces and raid
the cargo ships and be gone before any other forces can respond. Outraged
President Spaulding’s denied the claims stating that no one on his
administration would have anything to do with filthy low life scum that would
rob honest merchant trade, claiming this
situation could have been done and dealt with if the Confederation would deploy
a security fleet to monitor in system traffic and police local commercial
shipping lanes. Demands for more intervention from FleetComm have been denied.
Planets in Riley and several nearby neighboring systems are in an uproar
officials report at the lack of effort to fend off pirate incursions and
provide better security for commercial shipping lanes and planet refineries.
Riley’s mineral’s exports to confederation core world’s account for more than
forty percent of its imported resources. While President Spaulding made no
threats directed to the confederation, he did say that if things didn’t change
or if FleetCom officials didn’t start to take a more heavier interest in the
event’s unfolding in Riley then he would have no choice but to charge a higher
export tax to cover the cost to add adequate protection to efficiently protect
the shipping lanes and refineries as well as other penalties would be necessary
to cull the pirate threat. T.C.S VENGEANCE (NEW CARRIER CLASS ENTERING SERVICE FOR
CONFEDERATION.)
PELICAN CLASS(
CONFEDERATION HEAVY ASSAULT FRIGATE.)
Michael sat at a table in the crew
quarters of the Dawn’s Star nursing his drink alone. After having barely
escaped the surprise strike force and with a belly full of personal
event’s aboard the Dawn’s Horizon had been well, repairs had taken almost a full day just to
get the ship jump operational if only partially. The rest of that time had been
tending to the wounded personal of the destroyer, which many required medical
attention only to be found aboard a med ship. However Michael and the mercenary
crew made due the best they could with what supplies were available. After
making the first jump Michael had inserted the new course coordinates in the
ship's computer and put an extra security firewall around the information not
wanting to take a chance on any would be hi-jacker making an attempt to steal
the data. When Amanda and Otto had first learned of the new coordinates they
had been somewhat shocked such a direct route existed to Earth with so few
jumps. However exhausted and still dealing with Tennyings death they made no
inquiries to see the chart route. Otto had spent numerous hours trying to fix
the comm’s relay running by passes and changing out different circuit
components without luck. The Comm’s system was totally fried. The best they
could manage was a short garbled Transmission that couldn’t get past half a
million clicks. They had no way to warn Welker station or any nearby Confed
ships long range sensors could pick up of the approaching Kilrathi fleet. This
among other things had Michael on edge of late. The jump into Sol was the last
jump and the end of their voyage so to speak. He had a suspecting feeling that
Felix putting Tennying’s death on his shoulders might come looking for some pay
before they parted ways. Michael had been doing everything he could to
avoid an encounter with Felix be any means. After witnessing Felix’s battle
prowess against the Kilrathi soldiers and the berserker aboard the destroyer he
knew didn’t stand a chance against the man. The hatchway doors opened suddenly
with Srri entering carrying a trey with some warm steaming food on it.
Involuntarily Michaels arm slipped down closer to his sidearm. “I would have
thought we have gone beyond this point, human. Again I mean you no harm.” Srri
said not missing his movements. Taking a deep breath Michael let his arm relax
and moved it away from his blaster. Srri approached and sat the meal down on
the table while stepping back. “Is there anything you might require while I am
here?” she asked. The food looked warm and smelled delicious and weather
Michael wanted to admit it or not he was starving. His appetite getting the
better of him, he began to dig in the meal. Srri took his silence as a no and
turned to leave. “How did you end up on board a human mercenary ship?” Michael
asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. Turning she said “On my home
planet I was sold into slavery. “Pausing from his meal he looked up at her
curious as if to say silently say slavery? ”Tennying bought me and freed me
from my previous owner to be in his employ.” Swallowing Michael savored the
food. It was a type of broth stew he had never tasted anywhere before in his
life. His stomach instantly growled, its loud demand for more pinging both
their ears. “I am pleased you find the meal enjoyable.” She stated. “You were a
slave?” he asked “Am” she corrected. “I didn’t know Kilrathi enslaved their own
kind.” He said. “You humans,” she said pausing,” You see only one side of the
Kilrathi and think that is all to us. You know little.” “I know the Kilrathi
are merciless killers.” Srri shrugged not disagreeing. Not wanting to get into
another pissing contest Michael changed course. “How did you become a slave?”
he asked taking another bite. “My clan leader sold me and two of my cublings
into the slave market many years ago on my home world before it was destroyed.
Before Tennying took ownership of me I was under the rule of a Kilrathi pirate
lord well known in the Vagga regions of the empire. He owed Tennying for favors
past and gave me to him to square away the debt. Tennying was in need of a what
is the human word? Translator? When it came to dealing with Kilrathi
independents and pirates. Kilrathi independent’s, Michael thought to himself.
Upon hearing this Michael’s ears perked up. “Tennying must have had a lot of
dealing with local pirates then huh?” he asked, hoping Srri would let slip some
bit of information that the Confederation would be interested in learning. Srri
bared her fangs somewhat at him. He didn’t hear a hiss that normally followed
with such a jester. Michael got the impression she was smiling at him.
“Tennying was a very versatile and capable man with many contacts within the
Kilrathi Empire and the human Confederation. I give him credit due to your
species his barterning skills were formidable both in Kilrathi and your
confederation dealings. ” She said not giving away anything crucial. “You don’t
seem too upset at his loss.” Michael observed. Srri issued a low hiss at
Michael’s statement. “I will mourn his loss in my own way human. The time
of the Sivar- Eshad soon approaches for the Kilrathi, it will be a time of
honoring those worthy of my kind.Tennying was a warrior worthy to be called a
Kilrathi, though he is not of my race. You do not know nor understand the ties
we shared in your brief venture with us. However I do credit him more honor
than you. Seeing how you use his death to try to manipulate information out me
to use against his crew or myself who has done nothing but try to aide your
comrades from perishing and against their better judgement. That fact that you
would be more interested in his contacts and ties within the Kilrathi and the
confederation so soon speaks volumes of you human.” Srri retorted. Michael felt
a rush of shame overtake him. Srri had struck a nerve. A deep nerve that made
him feel guilty. Even though Michael hardly knew Tennying he knew the Dawn’s
Star had not only their captain, but had lost a good man.” Your right, I’m
sorry. For his loss and yours.” Michael said solemnly. “As am I.” Michael was
off balance with Srri he’d never encountered a Kilrathi like Srri before, let
alone had the chance to talk to one for any length of time. While he knew
without a doubt she was deadly and not to underestimated by any means he found
himself enraptured with her, with his curiosity getting the best of him every
time. “Now that he is gone what will you do now?” “I will bring him honor by
following his last command to my utmost ability.” “And that is?” he asked. “To the
safety and, well being of yourself. My blood oath, loyalties and service now
fall to you, my master.” She said bowing. “What!” he exclaimed. “No, no, not
gonna happen. I don’t need your services thanks anyways.” “What would you have
me do?” Srri asked blankly. “I don’t care, go back to your uh- previous
owner-““He would likely kill me upon sight least detach my head from my
shoulders.”.“Look I-“Otto’s voice broke in over the intercom. “Hey flyboy you
might want to get up here we’re coming up on your carrier.” Jumping up Michael
headed towards the hatchway doors with Srri in tow. Turning he said “Stay
here.” “Yes my master” Srri said bowing. “Don’t call me that.” He said hurrying
through the doors. Making his way to the bridge he had several near run ins with
broken pipes and exposed components that still had to be worked on. Almost
three days of non-stop repairs and they had barely made a dent in what needed
to be fixed. Upon entering the bridge Michael found both Otto and Amanda
peering out the front cockpit windows staring into space whispering to one
another. Guessing they had hadn’t heard him enter Michael approached the pair
and looked in the direction they staring. Upon gazing at his new home Michael’s
eyes went wide with wonder. The T.C.S Vengeance, was massive and sleek at the
same time. Even at this distance he could tell it was not the standard carrier
Fleetcom was used to putting into service. Its launch way was nearly twice as
wide and again as long. He could barely make out what had to be six portside
transport docking bays big enough to fit a medium size corvette like the Dawn’s
Horizon. The bridge, comm, and operations centers were all well-guarded with
multi Gatling and missile systems. Not to mention the many single and double
turret systems layered all over the carrier giving it an impressive defense
system aside from the intense green armor plating. In stationary position close
to the carrier were two capital ship’s none had laid eyes on before. Oddly
designed it looked neither slim nor huge but somehow evenly proportioned. All
three could see eight fair sized cannon batteries sporting both sides of it’s
midsection with three overly large cannon batteries spinning in a three hundred
and sixty degree rotation. Both ships were almost a third the size of the
carrier, and looked like they could do a good amount of damage to any
capital ship that came into their threat zone in a very short time. . “Those
things look like they came out of Star Wars.” Amanda remarked. Both Michael and
Otto turned to give her a look of unbelief. “What?” she asked shrugging. “What
do you think those things are?” Otto asked, pointing to two overly large blood
red crystals that were built in the left and right wing of the carrier. “I
haven’t got a clue.” Michael whispered more to himself than to Otto still
gazing over the Tiger’s Claw. “Look at the end of the runway.” She said
pointing. All three saw the number 56 painted in bright red on the end of the
launch way. “Let’s see if we can pull it up in FleetComm registration banks.”
Amanda stated. Michael turned to look at her, knowing that a person needed
authorized clearance to pull up any classified information on confederation
capital ships. There was no way a mercenary ship would have access to Fleetcom
ship registry let alone that of a new carrier still coming online unless it was
stolen or hacked. Not looking in Michael’s direction Amanda began entering a
series of codes into the ship's computer too fast for him to keep track
of. Upon entering the ships name all
three waited for feedback. A moment later a computerized voice read the
feedback. “T.C.S Vengeance Deep Strike Carrier. Crew 1200. Fighter/Bomber
Compliment 180. Supply/ Assault Transports 8. Ten single and double turrets,
four missile batteries. Further information authorized personnel security
clearance level Alpha 1 required.” “Deep
strike carrier? “ Michael said. “Never heard of that class.” “Sounds like it
can take a punch and still give one hell of an offense. And that’s just off
what we know. See what you can pull up on those two smaller ships. “Otto
stated. Amanda’s hands began flashing across the console screen again with
Michael trying desperately to follow. After a moment she said, “ I can’t find
anything on the internal spec’s, just outlining design and title. Pelican class
Heavy assault frigate.” “ Assault frigate? That’s a new one.”, Michael said to
himself. Just then the ship’s intercom
flared to life, “T.C.S Vengeance to approaching ship, state your course and
cargo.” Surprised they had comm systems at this range. Amanda clicked on her
headset “T.C.S Tiger Claw this is the Dawn’s Horizon registration number
121-A56B12 barring course 72518 mark 337 were packed down with injured we
rescued from an excellor in a fight against a Ralathi. Requesting Med-e-vac and
emergency med units via our location. Also have one passenger in route your
location.” They waited several moments for a response. “Dawn’s Horizon
registration code verified and accepted. Give us a moment or two to get the med
vac’s launched our operation’s system’s still getting up on its feet. Who’s
your passenger?” Squadron Commander Michael Fanin number 90-MV721. Another long
wait. “Confirmed Mr.Fanin, looks like you’re the last one.” “Last one what?”
Michael asked. “Get your gear packed the Wing Commander is on his way over to
pick you up in a shuttle. Vengeance out.” “Coming to pick you up in a shuttle?
That’s a first.” Otto stated. Michael had to agree, in his nine years serving
with the confederation he’d never heard of such a thing. They were less than an
hour from starting docking operations and to him it seemed like a waste of time
and fuel to ferry a newly made officer so short of a distance. Yet this was a
new assignment for him and he had every intention to getting things started off
on the right foot. It still seemed odd that the Wing Commander was personally
coming to pick him up. Wing Commander was three ranks below that of a Lt.
Commander and was considered a medium officer ranking. Still though Michael
would have thought with a new carrier coming online that the ship’s W.C. would
be busy with other more important issues than playing escort for a newly
arrived staff member. Michael turned to heading towards the bridges exit.
Before entering he stopped. Turning he found both Otto and Amanda staring back
at him. After a moment he said. “I’m sorry for Tennying. I didn’t know him very
well, but I know he was a good man. And thank you for rescuing those people
aboard the destroyer. I understand the confederation isn’t perfect but their still
human beings.” Amanda lowered her head while giving a small nod. Otto just
continued to stare a Michael. After a brief moment he saw a slight smile on
Otto’s lips. “Thank you for saving our lives flyboy. I know that we wouldn’t
have made it out of that situation without your help. Your right Tennying was a
good man.” He said. Michael nodded his appreciation. “Sorry about the puke also
Otto.” Otto’s smile vanished and was replaced instantly by a frown. Before Otto
could reply, Michael turned and hurried off the bridge heading to the crew
quarters. He was wary and on the lookout for Felix. He wouldn’t have put it
past the man to try and have one last encounter with him hoping it would turn
into something violent. Luck was with Michael however for there was no sign of
Felix anywhere. Michael hoped it would stay that way until he was aboard the
shuttle. Quickly Michael threw what few items he had out of his duffel bad back
zipped it up while throwing it over his shoulder. Turning to exit the crew
quarters he found Felix his arms crossed watching him. “I’m sorry about
Tennying he was a good man.” Michael offered. Silence. “Look Felix I don’t want
any problems with you.” “ Too late.” Felix said flexing his metal gauntlets and
calming walking towards Michael. Pulling his blaster free and aiming it at
Felix he continued “Killing me will in no way honor Tennyings memory.” “No, it
won’t your right about that.” Felix agreed. “But I’ll feel better after.”
Michael aimed at Felix’s head. “Don’t make me kill you.” Grinning Felix kept
approaching. Felix’s eyes suddenly went wide with fear. Then behind him Otto
appeared hold the muzzle of his blaster pressed to the back of his skull. “Told
you Felix the next shot would go through your skull. You wanting me to make
good on my promise?” “ I was just helping our passenger with his gear.” Felix
said seemingly not all that worried about Otto’s blaster pointed in the back of
his head. “Ya sure you were.” Otto said agreeing. “Thanks Otto, but I had
everything under control.” Michael said holstering his blaster “Un-huh.
Shuttles almost here. Might want to step on it flyboy.” Grabbing his duffle and
slinging it onto his shoulder Michael headed passed Felix who took the
opportunity to whisper “See you soon.” “Looking forward to it Felix.” “Before
you go there’s something i gotta know.” Otto said. Turning back around Michael
gave a quizzical look. “Back when those Krant’s where hot on our butt’s you
took us back in the blast range of the destroyer. How did you know we wouldn’t
cook with kitties when the excellor blew?” Otto asked still pressing his
blaster to back of Felix’s head. “ I pulled up the modifications that Tennying
had done to this ship. One of them was he had his vessel refitted with
Tripolium armor. Tripolium has a much higher heat tolerance than standard armor
that Confed uses, for it’s fighters. Much more pricey, but better material. It
was a gamble would survive the blast which all but crippled us but we
survived.” Michael said. “ That’s pretty clever.” Otto said nodding. “ You ever
need a job we could use someone with your skill here.” he Offered. Smiling
Michael turned leaving the crew quarters he made his way towards the ships port
side docking terminal. Unsurprised he found Srri there waiting for him.
“Greetings my master.” “Don’t call me master. How did you know I’d be here?” he
asked. “This is the only docking port this vessel has” she said. “Look” Michael
said, “I understand you wish to honor Tennyings memory by following his last
directive. But this is kind of overkill. Do you have any idea what would happen
if they found you aboard a Confederation ship and what would happen to you, and
me? Besides I’m still not sure I might not tell security your aboard the Dawn’s
Horizon the moment I step on the shuttle.” “You will not” Srri said. “How do
you know?” “Instinct” Srri said. Michael involuntarily rolled his eyes. “And
what does that mean?” he asked. “I believe the closest word you humans would
use would be called intuition. Though there is not too much of a difference.””Really?”
he said. “ How so?” he asked curiosity overtaking his will to be silent. “ One
involves a primal focus inherited and strengthened from one generation to the
next. The other is more taught and culled through trial and error than
inherited. I leave it to you to determine the difference, human.” Srri,
said. Michael knew he would say nothing of Srri’s presence despite his
better judgement. As an officer it was his duty to report such a situation
immediately not only as a security issue but as safety as well. Not only was
she deadly on a physical level but on an intellectual level as well. Yet due to the past events and Srri’s actions
he felt like he owed it to her and to Tennying somehow. That reporting her
would somehow sting some unknown moral code his intuition wanted him to
follow. Behind Srri came several light
thuds and a small bang signifying that docking operations had begun. Moving off
Srri said “This will not be our last encounter, human.” “What makes you say
that?” Smiling she said “Intuition?” Michael allowed himself a small grin
despite himself. “Farewell Michael Fanin our paths will cross again soon
enough, until then I have little doubt honor and glory will not stray far from
your path keeping you on the course to becoming a true warrior. I will remain in your service
my-- Michael” she said. Before he could say anything Srri gave him a deep bow
turned and left the port side terminal bay. And just in time, as soon as she
had stepped out of sight the Dawn’s Horizon
port side hatch door opened and Michael’s ears were both assaulted with
the faint sound of a tune he had not heard since he had been in grade school.
Unsure of who the artist was he listened for a moment soon recognizing the
artist. It was Tchaikovsky the War of 1812. Approaching the shuttle’s outer
hatchway door he entered his security code activating the door. As the door
opened the faint tune turned into a thunderous roar that almost brought him to
his knees it was so deafening. Entering the shuttle he found it was not
decorated to standard guidelines of other confederation shuttles he had been
aboard. Soft white carpet lined the floor of the entryway. Pictures of people
he had never seen were in various spots on the wall that didn’t have circuitry.
Even though the pictures where of different people Michael noted they all had
similar features. He wouldn’t have been surprised if they were somehow all
related in some way. In one corner he
spotted a mini-bar with a wide variety of different boozes and shot glasses. An
oversized chair that matched the carpet sat next to the mini bar. By all
accounts the shuttle looked more like something you’d see on a space luxury
liner than a military carrier. Walking into the entryway and rounding a corner
Michael found two more oversized and very comfortable looking chairs in the
hull of the shuttle. A young man with rich dark black hair wearing a pristine blue and white uniform that was ironed to a
crisp sat in one nursing some type of tonic. His eyes were closed and he had
one finger swinging back and forth to the rhythm of the music. Eyes still
closed he sat his drink down on a nearby table and picked up what Michael
assumed to be a remote. Sure enough a moment later the music died away. “Tell
me Squadron Commander Michael Fanin what is FleetComm policy code
27-161?”Caught off guard it took Michael a moment to remember something he’d
been taught back in basic nearly ten years ago. “Policy code 27-161 states upon
introduction of a superior officer a salute is warranted by the sub ranking
officer to his/her superior.” Michael stated barely remembering the statue.
“I’m still waiting for a salute Mr. Fanin.” Instantly he dropped his duffle and
keeping a straight face snapped off a polished salute. Setting his drink down
the young officer calmly rose from his seat clasping his hands behind his back
gave Michael a once over. After a moment he returned the salute. “I’m Wing
Commander Fletcher Burns of the Vengeance. “ Instinctually Michael didn’t care
for the man based off this initial encounter. The young officer appeared to
have a brazen attitude and gave Michael the impression of being a snob. Still
though as Wing Commander of the Vengeance he was going to be Michael’s superior
officer and the man he would half to report too. Deciding to play nice and extending
his hand he said, “Hello sir, it’s nice to meet you. I’m looking forward to my
duties aboard my new assignment.” Ignoring Michael’s hand Fletcher turned and
went back to his seat. Gritting his teeth Michael began to regret his decision
to accept the promotion and his transfer to this new carrier. Not offering
Michael to sit Fletcher said, “I’m not here to be your friend Mr. Fanin, nor
are you here to be mine. I’m here to perform my duties as your superior officer
and you are here to execute my orders to the best of your abilities without
question. Do you understand this Mr. Fanin? ““Yes sir.”. “ Don’t get me wrong
Mr. Fanin I don’t want us to start off on the wrong foot. I have nothing
against you personally. Your combat record is quite impressive along with your
skills as a fighter pilot. I have no doubt that your skills will be put well to
use with to the confederation’s gain. And with my guidance and instruction as
your superior officer I’m quite sure that your skills as a fighter pilot and a
new officer will only grow. All things being said Mr. Fanin I am by the book,
period.” By the Book huh, Michael thought to himself doing a quick glance
around the shuttle looking at its decorating which were sure to be against
FleetComm policy. “Do you have any questions? “ Burn’s asked picking up his
drink and sipping it. “None at this time sir.” “Excellent.” Fletcher said
smiling for the first time. He continued,” There is a ceremony waiting on our
arrival in the main hangar bay. Your cloths will by no means do. I’ll not have
my officers looking as you do aboard the flagship of the confederation. There’s
a room in the back behind the mini bar. You’ll find your officers uniform in
there. We have about thirteen minutes before we dock. I suggest you change into
something more respectable.” “Ceremony?” Michael asked. “For your arrival, I’ve
ordered all your pilots there at attention for inspection and introductions.”
Fletcher reported. Michael felt somewhat shocked and very much annoyed. As
Squadron Commander aboard the Tiger’s Claw Michael had some sixty pilots he’d
be responsible for. He didn’t feel or want a ceremony at his arrival. There was
nothing in FleetCom guidelines that called for one for any new officer’s
arrival aboard any confederation ship. He had a good feeling that the only book
Fletcher went by was his own.. The whole idea to Michael seemed absurd and well
silly. Not to mention far more pressing issues that needed to be brought to
attention such as the Kilrathi Fleet that surely now had begun it’s attack on
Welker Station, and the new jump drive technology that cats had developed that
somehow allowed them jump virtually undetected into confederation laps with no
for warning whatsoever. “Ah, sir I appreciate the ceremony but there are some
things that you need to be aware of. My flight here wasn’t all rainbow and
teddybears. The Kilrathi may have developed some type of new jump technology
that makes them all but undetectable. Until their knocking on your door. I have
a holo-chip with video footage of a surprise attack on Phobias sir from
Commander Wedge--” “Later Mr. Fanin, right now go change into your uniform
before we begin docking operations. Time is short and I’ll not have things go
to par. Now hurry.” Annoyed Michael steeled his rising anger at the man’s
interruption. He didn’t care for Fletcher in the least. The man came off as
arrogant and self righteous. He was reminded to the arrogant cadets in the
turbo lift back on Phobias. He could well see similar traits in them given a
few years mixed in with a couple promotions up the Confed ladder. Michael
wondered how such a person somehow made it to the rank of Wing Commander. If
his pilot skills were anything like his attitude then Michael would have been
amazed at how Fletcher would have survived any type of combat situation, having
a by the book attitude all the time. Even though it was this was his first
encounter with Fletcher Michael knew the young officer operated on a do as I
say not as I do policy. Yet this was his new assignment and he was determined
to things started on the right foot, not matter what challenges lay before him.
“Yes sir.” He said, picking up his duffle bag and heading to the small cabin in
the back. Hardly surprised, he found the room was just richly decorated as the
rest of the shuttle. As he began changing the sound of music soared loudly into
the room. Outside the shuttle began its approach into one the docking bays.
Space traffic outside was heavy as cargo freighters and supply tugs were busily
hurrying around the carrier performing their duties in a futile effort to make
deadlines. Slowly the shuttle made its way into the docking bay passing over
maintenance and dock personal which were rushing everywhere each many
undergoing tasks that hadn’t been completed yet. Off to one section stood two
rows of pilots standing at attention. Most wore bright crisp yellow uniforms
signifying their completion of flight school and basic space combat academy.
Mixed in however where a few of the blue veteran uniforms here and there of
seasoned pilots. The majority however wore yellow. As the shuttle set down,
steam from several vent’s located on its sides hissed out angry steam boiling
down on to the brand new cryton steel flooring. Inside just as Michael had
finished putting on his new Squadron Commander pins the music suddenly stopped
as Burn’s entered wearing a slight frown. “Are you ready? We are here, Mr.
Fanin. Michael couldn’t hide his own slight frown as he said, “Ready sir.”
“Good, make sure you perform your inspection of your pilot’s if any are out of
uniform or not groomed to Confed standards you are to personally reprimand
them. Is this guy serious? Michael asked himself. Make sure their hygiene is up
to Confederation standards as well. Already he knew better than to make
waves with this guy. Ever since coming aboard the shuttle Michael’s opinion of
his new Wing Commander was getting lower and lower and this recent event wasn’t
doing anything to improve the situation. Keeping a stern face Michael gave
Fletcher a curt nod before making his way off the shuttle, wanting nothing more
than to put some distance between him and the arrogant Wing Commander. He could
only hope his new assignment did not have more officers with Burn's personality
lurking about.. Exiting the shuttle he found two rows of pilot’s mostly cadets
waiting for him. Upon seeing him a crisp clean unified salute was given almost
in unison as he made his way down the shuttle ramp. Most were very young and
wore what Michael could see were blank but serious expressions. Most of them
didn’t even look like they could grow a full beard. Jesus their kids, Michael
thought. Returning the salute he took a moment to survey the scene in the
docking bay. He’d never seen any hangar bay in such pristine condition.
Everything looked brand new. Cargo containers, chemical barrels, crew and
fighter tugs looked fresh off the assembly line floor. Even the fighters looked
as though the paint hadn’t even dried yet. Used to seeing fighter technician's
covered in grease hurrying about in cargo loaders or working on various fighter
parts, almost everyone here tech’s and all had clean uniforms. To his surprise
the temperature was pleasantly comfortable, unlike most hangar bays aboard
Confed ships which one could break a clean sweat just from walking from end to
the other. Wanting to hurry Michael walked briskly down the column giving every
cadet a once over. More concerned with this newest technology threat the
Kilrathi had cooked up and his given fear that Welker station was at this very moment be under heavy assault he
needed to locate a commanding officer sense his senior officer wasn’t taking
him seriously. As he made his way towards the end of the column Michael spotted
two older and more experienced officers at the head of the column. Both had dark
blue uniforms like his and looked just as clean. As Michael approached a shout
of, “ Senior Officer on deck!” echoed past his shoulder. Having a good idea of
who it was, Michael did a quick about face while snapping up a sharp salute.
Sure enough Fletcher was already heading down the shuttle ramp carrying a
jeweled rod wearing a deep frown staring
in his direction. “Mr. Fanin, this is the second time in your very short
arrival here that you have failed to follow protocol. You’ve already been told
how I am by the book, yet I get the impression that you feel that you’re exempt
from following protocol. I would have thought by now you’d seen that I believe
very heavily in ceremony and Confed tradition, two markings that if we are to
win the war must be followed to a Tee. It is becoming apparent that I am again
wrong in your appraisal.” Fletcher said very loudly. “Sorry sir, I’m just
wanting to get things underway sir. I didn’t think you’d want me hanging around
waiting for you to finish your drink.” Michael said just as loudly unable to
restrain his annoyance. Fletcher’s loud and brazen comment in front of the pilot’s
was uncalled for and possible might have undermined Michael’s authority as a
new officer. Fletcher’s prissy attitude was starting to get the better of him.
Fletcher’s frown deepened as he walked within earshot of Michael. Just great
Michael told himself. I haven’t been aboard ten minutes and already I’m in a
pissing contest with the Wing Commander, way to go he told himself. “I knew the
moment I saw you you’d be trouble. Well, you’d better listen up. As of now
you’re on my s**t list. You so much as piss in the wrong direction, and I’ll
bust your a*s in rank and kick it back to that piece of junk carrier in front
lines. You get me, Mr. Fanin?” “Yes, sir.” Michael said through clenched teeth,
wishing he was already there. Without breaking eye contact Fletcher took it
upon himself shouting, “Assembly dismissed!” Likewise Michael didn’t break eye
contact letting Fletcher know that he wasn’t about to be pushed around by
anybody. The tension between the pair was easy for anyone to see. Pilots looked
at each other oddly before they began to
break ranks and head off in different directions. Michael felt relieved at the
Fletchers change of mind. The whole ceremony was uncalled for and not necessary
with far more important pressing issues to deal with. It was Fletcher who broke
away first turning and walking towards a hatchway exit. Michael used the moment
to draw a deep breath. Off to a great start he told himself. From over his
shoulder he heard someone say, “Don’t mind him sir, Fletcher is a born prick
plain and simple. “ Turning he found the two pilot’s he’d seen earlier in front
of the column standing there. “Yeap, Fletcher was born with a silver ladle up his
a*s.” Said another, a beautiful looking woman Michael noted, smiling at him.
She continued, “Rumor has it his family is rich and has a lot of influence in
FleetCom. They know a couple of big shot’s way up the military channels. Mostly
political connections and such. But every encounter I’ve had with him he’s
always made an a*s of himself. To Michael it made all made a lot of sense as to
why someone so young would have already reached the rank of Wing Commander and
acted with such an arrogant flare. “Well, I hope his combat skills are better
than his attitude.” Michael said. One pilot to the woman’s left, a slender and
young looking man laughed at Michael’s statement. “Fletcher in a fighter?
Right. “He said. “Anyways sorry you didn’t make it down to us for proper
introductions,” the man continued, “ If Fletcher was as by the book as he
professes then he would know this was your detail to dismiss the pilot’s not
his.” Michael nodded already knowing. “Well, I’m Michael Fanin callsign Knight
newly arrived.” He said. “Glad to have you aboard.” The man said. “We’re your
Squadron Leaders. I’m Anthony Taylor call sign Jester. I’m head over your
Raptor division. a*k*a Vengeance Raptors.” “I’m Jessica Miller call sign Vas,
Squadron Leader over your ferret division a*k*a WarDogs.” the pretty woman said
smiling while extending her hand. Nodding Michael took her hand. It was warm
soft and smooth. Michael saw her eyes
light up. Michael offered her a smile in return. Jessica let her hand linger in
his forcing Michael to be the first to break the hand shake. A third man a heavyset looking individual
stepped forward with a salute while saying very directly, “Bret Reed, call sign
Buster. Squadron Leader over your Scimitar Division, sir a*k*a WartHogs.”
Returning the salute Michael said, “Good to meet you sir.” Reed gave Michael a
stiff nod before stepping back. “ Inspection and flight roaster detail for the
Scimitar’s should be completed and ready within a few hours, sir. I’m sure you
will want some time to degear and wind down for a bit. I’ll get with you before
night shift comes on for your approval of the upcoming flight roaster and
inspection reports. If you will excuse me, I have some unfinished work I need
to attend to with a few bombers still not properly outfitted. We are to make
our maiden jump within twenty four hours and I have a lot of work to catch up
on, sir.” “ By all means then take care your business. I’ll see you before the
shift change then. ” Reed gave another salute then turned and briskly walked
over to wear several loader techs were busy around a pair of Scrimtar bombers.
“ He seems gun- ho.” Michael observed. “Now he is by the book.” Anthony said,
Continuing, “Me and Buster served on the Lancer together, take my word for it
sir, you won’t find a more capable fighter/bomber here. He’s been due for a
role like this for awhile now in my opinion.” Taylor stated. “ Good to know.”
Michael said. Thinking back to the event’s of Phobias Michael sizeged the
moment asking, “ LIsten, my trip here wasn’t a pleasant cruise by any means.
The Kilrathi have made some scarey tech advances I can’t go into about. Who’s
the Senior Command Officer here”, he asked. “ Guy named Jones, Author Jones if
memory serves right. Only briefly met him once when I came aboard. He should be up on the bridge with the
Admiral. But unless it’s dire important I wouldn’t suggest interrupting the
commander.” Taylor said. “ It’s dire important” Michael echoed.”Even though I
can probably guess why. Why didn’t you notify Fletcher?”” Tried to, he wasn’t
trying to hear it.” Michael said. “Knew it” Anthony said. Just then warning
lights flashing with several hazzard crews in loaders speeding to one section
of the hanger. A large outer dock door began opening. Continuing to open all
three watched the light blue nano-gel screen shield come into view. The screen
gell which covered the external hatchway port was paper thin and yet was the
only barrier that separated the people in the hanger bay from the deadly void
of space . With the doors all the way open the trio saw a large transport ship
approaching lined up for entry. Michael from seeing the outer design of the
ship already knew it was the Dawn’s Horizon but kept silent watching. It would
be his first time seeing how much damage the ship had taken from the
attack. The Dawn’s Horizon passed
through the gel barrier making a loud ploop like sound has it entered the
hanger. Immediately engine sputter like sounds began echoing off the ship's
main engines. Tears and neutron scars ran all over the main bulkhead streaming
down the underside of the Dawn’s Star’s belly. The ships com tower had been
blown almost clean off it’s framework and was barely hanging on by several
scrap pieces of cable mixed in with torn wire. Upon entering the oxygen filled
hanger sparks began firing to life added and mixed in with small fires over the
corvette. Steam from exhaust ports began hissing in protest as the transport
hovered in mid air trying to line up with the landing pad. Large smoldering
craters were all that remained where several turret batteries had been.
Thruster engines sputtered, fighting to stay alit in a losing effort to keep
the Dawn’s Horizon aloft. “ My God.”, Jessica said at seeing the almost
crippled transport hover in. “ Ya it was no fairy tale cruise.” “ What happened?”,
she asked. “ Long story, which now isn’t the time to retale, if you will
forgive me. I need to get this halo- chip to the commander. Events have
unfolded that need to be addressed. “ “ No your right.”, she agreed. “ Come on
I’ll show you to the bridge.” “ Be a good idea to follow her.” Anthony said. “
I’d play escort as well. But I’ve got my own inspections to make that will
you’ll need to double check as well. I’ll be in touch with you around the same
time as Bret sir, with my throne for your side.” Anthony said smiling
warmly. “ Sounds good.” Michael said returning Anthony’s salute. “ If you’ll
come with me there’s a turbo lift not far that will take us to the bridge. “ ,
she said. Nodding Michael fell in at her side as she made her way towards the
exit. As the pair headed towards the turbo lift Michael’s eyes were roaming the
hanger bay taking everything in, being taken aback at how pristine and new
everything looked. It was far different from many carriers that were stationed
in the front lines. While cleanliness and order were very much a part of any
carrier operation. With constant Kilrathi encounters, and one major offensive
after another it was increasingly difficult to find the time and energy for
maintenance and crew tech’s to find time to keep things in tiddy order, with
fighter, and ship repairs always pressing down on them. “ Pretty impressive,
don’t you think?”, Jessica asked. “Very”, Michael agreed. “ From what I
understand she’s the first ship with this type of design spec. I don’t know too
much about her, though when i first came aboard I looked her up in C.H.C
registry banks and aside from the standard info found out very little about
her.”, she said. “ I tried the same, and ended up with the same results.”
Michael admitted, as the pair approached some turbolift doors, that were
intersected of a four way corridor. Almost everyone Michael saw wore brand new
uniforms and were heading one way or another. Material loaders and freight
movers were ever present overly large
and cumbersome could be heard and easily seen moving in the current of
personal. The hallway was just as immaculate as the hanger had been, the floors
not steel made nor gridded like the older Yorktown class carriers were just as
dark, sturdy but plate made from a mixed
of material’s Michael couldn’t make out.
The walls were a color of a deep grey mixed with Confed’s standard
fighter color of emerald green. One long continuous Light with two angry red
beam lines was centered in the ceiling providing illumination the length of the
corridors. Doors opening the pair setted
inside. “ How long have you been aboard?” Michael asked, as the lift doors
closed shut. Looking up at him she offered a warm smile with full lips that
made her eyes sparkle. Aside from a slim and generous body Michael noted that
the woman was exceptionally beautiful having look smooth dark brown hair that
was offset by a pair of large soft brown eyes, accompanied by a pair full lips.
“ I transferred here a couple of weeks ago and it’s been full steam since in
getting things up to spec, not much has changed, from the way things have been
this getting on her feet.” “ So I’ve noticed. Everyone looks like a man on a
mission here.” Michael agreed. It was good to see people and driven with a
purpose, it helped in keeping one’s mind off harsher realities in war time. “
As I’m sure you know the Vengeance is fresh out of drydock against the wishes
of the construction engineers who built her. But Admiral wasn’t having any of
it. Rumor has it they had four years to
meet his deadline and not a day more. But when your dealing with a man like
Welker you either deliver or get your a*s handed to you on a silver platter,
from a fleetcom sense.”, she stated. “ I definitely agree with you there. “
Michael said, hearing story after story of the Admirals accomplishments. “
Well, it looks the they made it by the skin of their teeth. So all's well that
ends well, Welker gets his carrier on time so he gets to move on, and the
engineers live to breathe another day.”, he said. She started laughing, a soft
but rich laugh that had Michael raising an eyebrow at her. “ Yea right, guess
you don’t know our Captain if you will, is the Admiral himself.” At this knews
both Michaels eyebrows went up high. Welker is taking command of this carrier?”
Michael asked surprised. “Yes sir, though there’s been no official
announcement, rumors are running wild he’s making this the flagship, of
Confederation forces in all our territories.” “Really?” Michael said, “ Well
this is welcomed news”, he continued. The last flagship the T.C.S Viceroy had
been with all hands aboard during one of the battles in the Enyo episode by a
surprise attack by the Kilrathi, since then FleetCom hadn’t named any carrier
nor warship an official flagship for Confederation forces. “ Be my first assignment serving under an
Admiral.” , he stated. Continuing, “ Uh, it’s been a hot minute and we aren’t
moving.” jessica sighed facepalming herself while giggling, “ I’m sorry i
forgot to enter the bridge level.” she said looking up at him. “ I was
distracted.”, she confessed smiling. Michael noted her features reddening a
little. “ It will be mine as well.”, turning to the lift console and entering
the bridge level. “I knew we had something in common.” Michael said smiling.
“And thanks for playing concierge. So I assume you still have your inspection
and patrol roaster to perform?”, he asked.
“ Not a problem and nope. I knew you’d be arriving sometime today. I had
mine completed yesterday, it’s ready for you to review and sign off on when you
get the chance. “ How’d you know I’d be arriving today?”, he asked impressed
she was already ahead of his other two Squad Leaders. Both felt the turbo lift
slow to a stop. With the doors opening, the pair exited into another corridor.
Dark green and grey carpet lined the floorway with the confederation emblem
sewn in the carpet every dozen meters. Large panel windows lined one side of
the hallway with single and double hatchway doors on the other. Michael noticed
it was significantly cooler here than in the hanger bay. “ I know you arrived
from the Phobias a front line carrier, where you were serving as Squadron
Leader over the TigerSharks, Raptor class, and that you’ve been there for about
three years. During that time you’ve lost six wingmen in engagement’s against
the furballs and that weighs on your conscience. You could say your deadly in a
fighter with over eighty confirmed kills. Your a capable pilot among other
things. Your a man of genuity, passion and vercue, and you believe in what you
stand for which even though this is your first assignment in a lead officers
role, it will make you a good I think.
Stopping her he asked, “ How do you know all that?” “ I have my sources,
sir.”, Jessica said teasingly. “ Nothing wrong with doing a little homework on
your commanding officer.”, she continued. “ No but you kinda got me against the
wall.”, he admitted. Michael was amazed at how on point she was. As a Squadron
Leader below ,Squadron Commander, there’s no way she would have access to his
personnel profile, yet everything she had said was spot on. “ Good that’s where
I’ve found most men do their best at.” Michael scoffed despite himself. She was
direct, brazen almost crossing the boundaries on unprofessional conduct with a superior officer. (Damn the
conduct) he thought to himself. Jessica
had a witty sense of humor with a touch of flambancy. She seemed like she
wasn’t afraid to speak her mind, and Michael liked that about her. He liked her
period. “ Okay then tell me about yourself.” “What do you want to know?”, she
asked grinning. “ Well for starters, where did you transfer from?” “ I’m fresh
from flight school, this is my first assignment.”, she answered. Again Michael
was taken aback. “ Hold on, you mean your fresh from boot?” “ Yes sir, twenty
three days out.” “ No actually combat
nor Kilrathi engagements under your belt?”, he asked his features going seriously.
“ Not yet, just what I went through in simulator combat training programs and
Kilrathi counter tactics. Though I’m looking forward to showing what i can do.
My instructors gave me a five star rating across the flight board in every
area. “Only thing I’m really lacking is logging hours in cross fighter
tactics.” Jessica confessed. Continuing she said, “ But it’s amazing what showing a little cleavage can
get you. “ she said, laughing. Michael did not share her humor. “ How many
hours have logged and in what fighter class. “ I’ve got about nine hundred
hours in the hornet. And pushing two hundred in a Scimitar.”, she said. “ Why?”
Michaels thoughts instantly drifted back to his last engagement with the
Kilrathi aboard Phobias and the events that led to Wildcats death, and his past
wingmen. Before he could answer the
ship’s intercom flared to lift. “ Condition Yellow. Attention senior officers report to officer bay Delta
four. Repeat senior officers report to
officer bay Delta four.” “ I’ll bet my my pilot wings, this won’t be good.”
Jessica stated. Overhead the two red neon beams lining the continuous light
panels began flashing a high yellow. “ Ya, the yellow alert kinda makes that
clear.” Michael said unintentionally sound like a smartass. Several groups of
officers began exiting nearby hatchway doors rushing towards them. “This must
be important.”, Jessica mused ignoring his earlier remark. “ Looks like your
up, sir.” We’re one level above Delta, follow me I’ll make sure you don’t get
lost. “ turning she headed back towards the turbo lift with Michael in tow. “ You okay, sir?”
“Hm, yes why?”, Michael said his mind still in past event’s. “ You look
troubled.”, she noted. Ahead the turbo
lift was fast filling with staff officers. “ I’m good.”, he lied not wanting to
pursue the subject of her lack of fighter experience. The pair were the last to
squeeze into the lift before the doors hissed shut. The fact that jessica was
fresh from the academy and with no actual combat experience outside of training
and the simulator by no means sat well with him. Added her first detail was as
a Squadron Leader aboard the soon to be flagship. Was FleetCom so hard up for
pilots it had no choice but to use pleebs coming out of boot for junior command
positions. He didn’t give two cents how good her academy record was nor how
many high marks she gotten from her instructors. It didn’t mean squat to him
compared to frontline battle tactics the Kilrathi loved to use. He knew a ship
like this would not get some cushy back system gig. If the rumor was true about
this carrier as the Confederations new flagship, Michael had no doubt it would
be frontline action and leading counter offensives across the board, with
Welker being in command. However now in the turbo lift was not the time to
breach the subject. The doors hissed open revealing a hallway much like the one
leading out from the hanger bay. Michael didn’t really need Jessica to escort
him being able to follow the crowd in the lift, yet he wasn’t about to dismiss
her company finding it enjoyable nonetheless.
Exiting Michael kept pace with her along with everyone else heading down
the hallway and turning at several corners. Coated on the many single and
double hatchway doors was Delta level followed by a number that as the group
moved towards the end of the corridor was getting smaller. At the end the pair
could see a growing number of personnel entering a pair of open hatchway doors
guarded by two marines in full combat armor.
Michael made out a senior officer ushering in people in a hurry. A dozen
or so meter’s away Jessica stopped saying, “ Here you are sir, Delta four
officers briefing with red carpet courtesy.” “ Thanks again for the escort.”,
Michael said, just as a senior officer hollered at them, “ Hey you two hurry
up! The Admiral won’t wait all day for us to assemble. Your slowing the flow of
traffic.”, he said while motioning them in. “I’m not an officer. I don’t want
to get reprimanded for going in there.”, Jessica said looking at Michael. “
Your with me. Anyone makes waves at you being in there, I got you.” Michael
said leading her into the room followed by other officers trying to move around
them heading into the briefing room. Shrugging she followed Michael into the
room, finding it nearly packed with officers of all levels and rankings. Not to
Michaels surprise he didn’t find any open seats, scanning the room. The
briefing room itself was the size of a large cargo hold. Seven rows on new
leather seats lined the center each with fifteen seats. He made out three more
rows on each side with the same number of seats. In back of the room sitting
atop a thick carpeted grey and green stage was a huge stainless steel FleetCom
Confederation emblem built into the wall. One large FleetCom United Planet
Systems flag and the Confederation Navy flag were stationed on either side of
the emblem both ironed to a crisp and displayed proudly into the wall. Four
more polished leather chairs sat in front of the FleetCom flag. Three of which
held what Michael assumed were the Senior command staff. Michael caught the
rank bars of one the officers, a large muscular looking man as the ship
commander in deep conversation with two other officers. Centered in the stage sat a dark grey and
green podum with a brass Confed icon bolted in its front. Not finding any open
seats Michael with Jessica close behind opted to move to back the back wall
near the hatchway doors seeing a small space which the pair could stand. Making
their way through the crowd of officers. Both well heard whispers and murmurs
on what this emergency meeting could be about. Indeed it must be something
serious to pull all officers from their duties in the midst of readying a
carrier fresh out of drydock. Jessica kept close to Michael while not hiding
behind him but rather trying to stay unnoticed by any polished brass that might
make a fuss about enlisted personnel and a rookie at that being present. Sure
enough both heard a voice address from behind Michael saying, “ Mr. Fannin this
briefing is for officers only, it is not acceptable for enlisted personnel to
be present for contents of the briefing. “, the voice said overly condsendily.
An irritated flush overtook Michael hearing the speaker behind him. Having only
met the man once he instantly knew who the voice belonged to. Looking over his
shoulder he sure enough he found, the
T.C.S DayStorm’s Wing Commander
and his personnel supervisor Fletcher Burns standing behind him holding a grey
military crop and wearing a deep frown. Not wanting to upset the man further,
Michael decided to try and downplay the situation. “ My apologies sir, she was
in the process of escorting me to the ship commander when the yellow alert sounded.
She was making sure I arrived at the correct place in time for the briefing.”,
he said pointedly. Fletchers eyes narrowed, “ Your fresh off the transport
ship. Why would you want to see the ship Commander?” Pulling free the holo-chip
from his pocket he said, “ Remember I was explaining to you event’s that had
unfolded with the surprise assault on board the Phobias? It’s my duty to report
this to someone in the chain of command. You were- “ “Ah, yes! The supposed new
Kilrathi technology you were talking about.. “ Fletcher said cutting him off
while taking the holo-chip. Michael had to suppress his rising anger at the
man’s continuing arrogance.
Fletcher gazed at the holo- chip
inspecting it to make sure it wasn’t
damaged nor broken before replying, “ Weather true or untrue I’ll make sure
this gets to the right person. As for you two, I’m putting you both on report
for Breach of Decorum by enlisted personnel and superior officer.”, Fletcher
announced. Both Michael and Jessica turned to look at each other momentarily.
Seeing the faint outlines of a smile threatening to break through her features
Michael likewise shared in her sentiment. Breach of Decorum would likely be
laughed at and thrown out, being a minor infraction at best not a serious
offense, in war time. Then again Michael told himself it had the possibility to
be a serious issue if the information presented in the briefing was of a
critical nature. Both heard the double hatchway doors closing as the last of
the late comers scurried through the doors followed by the guards who took
positions either side of the doors. The room died down to quiet murmurings as
Admiral Welker walked briskly onto the stage to the podum. As Welker surveyed
the room, the hush grew into total silence all eye’s being drawn towards him.
After a moment he began with a clear, sure voice, “ Let me be the first to
officially welcome you aboard the T.C.S Vengeance, soon to be named the
flagship of confederation within our territories. After a brief pause he
continued, “ As of now this is the most technological carrier within our fleet, having modified
tracking, com and sensor arrays, rapid multi- launch capabilities, advanced
armorants, long range multi - gallagher anti torpedo systems and other prime
weapon systems. In short, if it’s been made Confed bought and slapped it in
here. This is our gauntlet and we're gonna crack some Kilrathi jaw’s with
it.”the Admiral exclaimed. The Admirals opening announcement was received with
cheers and applause. “ Now to protect the confederation’s newest flagship they
have also approved the design and construction of a new class of ship with
similar advancements. Most of us have seen them in stationary orbit. These new frigate assault ship’s have been
dubbed Pelicans and have whopper offensive capabilities against capital
ships. Were the DayStorm goes, they go.
If this carrier is the gauntlet boys and girls then those frigates are a brutal
pair of brass knuckles that once the jaw is broken will knock their fangs out
as well.” Again cheers and applause came from the Admirals audience. Make no
mistake everyone, these three ships have
capabilities that are unmatched by anything we currently have with in
the Confederation arsenal. Welker allowed himself a slight pause before
continuing, “Now the desert is out of the way let’s get down to the main
course.”. Welker had Michaels full attention, already having a dreadful feeling
at what was coming. Seeing no reason to beat around the bush Welker got
straight to the point. “ Everyone as of this moment, Welker battlestation has
fallen to the Kilrathi empire.”, the admiral announced gravely. Gasps and
shouts of disbelief came from several personnel in the room. Michael shut his
eyes while taking a deep breathe at hearing the news. Behind him Jessica gasped
in shock. “ With the fall of the battlestation, this gives the Kilrathi
Imperial Empire uncontested control over a four system stretch. This demands an
immediate response from us. Three of
which contain critical jmp vectors reaching far into confederation space, where
there are several systems with civil colonies. Ladies and gentlemen these civic
colonies are for lack of a better word defenseless. There is currently no Confederation presence
in any of these system colonies. I’m talking death tolls in the hundred
thousands if not millions. These are frontier settlements, boys and girls.
Families, community living, second and third chancers. No military operations,
research, or facilities.” Many officers in the room knew well the stories of
how brutal the Kilrathi empire was and could well picture the fate of those
colonists if they fell into the claws of the Kilrathi. “ Along with the
station’s capture those b******s also got their claws on a confed carrier, and
took down five destroyers that were in stationary orbit around Welker. At this
news Michael heard another gasp escape from Jessica. His gaze turning towards
her, he saw her cover her mouth seeing, tears welling up in her eyes
threatening to break free. He had to suppress a strong urge to go comfort her. “Information is sketchy on how they got the
jump on us. Intelligence believes initial troop and crew loss is estimated to
be somewhere around two thousand either KIA or MIA.”, the admiral explained.
There was total silence as Welker dropped one bomb after another on his
audience. Before he could continue a bald headed and portly looking officer
came up on stage and began whispering in his ear. “ I’ll leave further details
to Commander Taylor.”, After a brief pause Welker continued,” Make no mistake
everyone, this is a situation of dire porposions. And demands our immediate and
full attention.” Turning to Commander Taylor Welker said, “Your up Commander.”
With Welker leaving the stage followed by his portly comrade Taylor took the
podium. Commander Taylor wore a crisp
grey uniform with two high polished gold and platinum emblems attached to his
shoulder sleeves. Two bronze colored ribbons hung on his opposite shoulder
draping partway down the arm. On the man’s upper arm, a set of heavily ironed
gold and platinum stripes were easily
view, draping partly down signifying his rank as a ship commander. Three white bars dressed his fore sleeves
identifying to all who looked his fifteen active years of service with Confed
forces. Taylor’s features were similar to Welker's in their sharpness though
the commander carried more muscled bulk compared to the Admiral’s slimness. Taylor sported a finely trimmed through thick
goatee and sideburns. His hair being a dark brown was almost a perfect match
with his rich brown eyes which looked just as sharp as the Admiral’s and aired
just as much confidence. Everyone who
looked at the man could sense him being a man of quick to take action and give
direction having intense focus. “ Thank you Admiral.”, he said taking the podium.
“ Everyone welcome aboard the T.C.S DayStorm the newest of Kilrathi kickass
capital ships, that will soon put us
back on the offensive were we belong.'' Taylor said assuredly. Michael
saw several nods of agreement throughout the briefing room. “ As the Admiral
was saying with the capture of the Phobias and Welker station added in with the
loss of five destroyers and the empire effectively taking control of four
linked systems is paramount. This is unacceptable. The initial assignment of
the DayStorm upon leaving Sol was to jump to Welker meeting up with the Phobias
which had plans to undergo a refit and upgrade operation, overhauling the
entire vessel. Several groups of escort and support ships were scheduled
to arrive as well. Upon the completed assembly, we were to form the Telser
Battle group, launching an offensive campaign into four frontier systems belonging
to the Kilrathi. We were to imprint a Confederation footprint in those systems
and effectively stamp out any Kilrathi presence. “ Taylor explained. “ As of
now these plans are scrapped.” Michael took a moment looking over his shoulder
at Jessica. Her eyes were puffy and he could see tail tail signs she’d been
crying. He wanted to ask if she was alright but didn’t want to get distracted
from the briefing. “ There are at least
forty capital, assault and escort ships in the assaulting fleet. Intel has no
idea how such a large number of ships slipped past our scanner arrays and
frontline patrols to get the drop on us.” “ Commander Taylor, if I may
interject, sir.” Fletcher interrupted loudly. Taylor looked slightly annoyed,
turning in the Wing Commanders direction. “ Sir, my apologies for cutting in,
but given the gravity of this situation, I have potential information straight
from the front lines, that may give us a
clue on how the cats got their claw’s on Welker station..” “Let’s have it Mr.
Fletcher.”, the commander said impatiently. Reaching into his pocket Fletcher
pulled out a holo-chip. “ Commander this contains video footage and a detailed
report of a surprise attack Phobias underwent while in route to Welker station.
Supposedly the cats appeared out of nowhere using the same type of technology.
Though I haven’t had a chance to view yet, sir.”, the Wing Commander explained.
“ Good work, Mr Fletcher, this may provide some insight on how those b******s
got so far behind our frontlines.” Taylor said approvingly. Nodding to one of
his aides who was already heading towards burns, he took the holo-chip, then
disappeared into the crowd to start reviewing the data. After a moment Taylor added, “ Mr. Fletcher
go with him and oversee things. Prepare a report for me to give to the Admiral.
Don’t worry about the briefing I’ll fill you in one on one. “ “Of course,
Commander it would be my utmost pleasure.”, Fletcher said a bit smuggly. “
Good, thank you Commander.”, Taylor acknowledged. Kiss A*s Michael
thought to himself. “ Kiss A*s.”, he heard Jessica echo, watching Fletcher make
his way through the crowd almost at the same moment. Looking at her, he could
see the faintest of worry lines appearing with more tears trying to crash
through. “ You ok?”, he whispered. She shook her head in answer. Michael wanted
to press her but didn't’. She was clearly upset and worried. “ With
events unfolding as they are all the assault and escort ships that were to make up Telser fleet with the exception of us
are being rerouted in defense of the frontier colonies, should the Kilrathi
advance. Confed is currently scrambling cap ships from sector fleets to form a
defensive perimeter around the Dakota system in an attempt to contain Kilrathi
forces should they decide to advance. “, Taylor explained. “ How so, sir?”,
asked an officer in the crowd. “ If they have this new jump tech, then what
good does setting up a perimeter. They can just jump out and reappear somewhere
else.” “ Yes, that’s true, but as most of us know the festival of Sivar-eshad
has begun. Intel believes it’s highly unlikely those b******s will make any
advance while tributes to their heathen war-god are being celebrated. But we
are taking no chances. With the capture of Welker station the Kilrathi have
effectively spearheaded our front line in the enigma sector and taken a
position to advance further with little to no response from Confed forces for
the immediate.” All knew the Siva-Eshad accrued every year since the war had
started. It was a serious celebration for the Kilrathi in which many religious
ceremonies took place honoring Sivar. It was a time when many Kilrathi
performed the Pu’kcal, in making atonement for confession of minor dishonors.
FleetCom ever the opportunist took advantage every year by launching offensive
campaigns, multiple supply depot raids, planet strikes, anything the upper
brass could think of to upset the Sivar-Eshad. More often than not, they met
with partial success in most of these operations to plant a thorn in the cats’
side. At Taylor next statement his tone grew serious, with an ugly expression
taking over the commanders features. “ Now to kick off there festivities, the
Kilrathi thought it would be cute to send us a video transmission. The contents
are unbecoming and beastly. “ Stepping away Taylor returned to his seat as the
podum lowered disappearing into the floor. Behind the podum the FleetCom emblem
split in two along the wall supporting it, revealing a huge flat screen hidden
inside the wall. As the room went dark the screen came to life showing an
aerial view of the inside of a wrecked hangerbay. Michael recognized it
as the Phobias's main launch bay. He
could see what looked like a whole battalion possibly two in lined formation.
In front of the battalion’s was a single line of confederation personal down on
their knees heads downcast. Flying in
close the air drone passed in front of the Confederation prisoners giving a close up inspection. Many had blank, numb
expressions as if they knew what fate awaited them and that no power or course
could save them. Very few held a look of defiance, possessing that never ending
human spark that no matter what
adversity befell them would never ever die out. It was the spark of hope.
Behind each kneeled prisoner stood a single Kilrathi vanguard in full
glistening armor, their fang shields giving off a chrome reflection against
hangar bay lighting. As the drone flew
down the line doomed prisoners, Michael recognized L.Commander Wedgeworth and
Aussie in the line. Both wore sad defeated expressions and supported several
deep bruises and scars. A dreadful feeling came over him at sighting his former
Commander and old friend being in the claws of the Kilrathi. Yet there was
nothing he could do, except pray for them, that would save them from whatever
gruesome fate the cats had in store for them.
A hovering plate form came into view carrying four figures. Silence was
the only thing heard as the plate form drew in close to the aerial camera
drone. Two high ranking Kilrathi stood
centered on the platform. One the larger of the two wore shoulder guards made
of what appeared to be Kilrathi skulls while sporting a pair of impressive
looking fanged forearm bracers. A thick orange cape dressed and flowed from his
back complimented a finely crafted metallic chest piece with a dark chrome
tint. His muscular face was outlined in finely crafted rare metal ear and fang
cuffs linked together with sparkling
chains. The smaller of the two was equally impressive. The warriors frame was
sleek but well defined. He wore the armor of a Cur’Ra’Gal or Clawguard. Like
the Vanguard armor it left the lower abdomen and biceps exposed and vulnerable.
However for Vanguard warrior’s and the elite Ailra’hra it was a small price to
pay given the extra flexibility and movement it allowed. For Kilrathi warriors
it was an excellent trade. Beautifully made and pregaps the struddest and
strongest among anything the Kilrathi had, it was only for hunter/killers of
the Ailra’hra. Imprinted on his chrome chest piece was his house emblem large
and magnificent displayed. The elite sported no fangshield, just a wicked
looking brace blaster supported by a sharp looking claw gauntlet. Atop his head
was a cruel looking metal helmet covering his upper head stopping short of his
jawline. It had the outline of a lion. His face and ears were mostly covered a
protective measure. The eye sockets allowed two blood red orbs to peer through.
The whole design was custom, and made to provoke fear and uncertainty in armed
combat, which more often than not worked well. Standing behind and off to the
side was a Kilrathi female dressed in an array of fine robes. Her fur was
smoothly combed and glistened against the lighting. A multitude of tiny gems
where studded into her gangs which equally sparkled in the light. Likewise,
more gems where encompassed around her eye sockets. Atop her head sat a crown
made of some white silver, attached to the front piece and trailing down around
her nose was noseguard with a crest of
Sivar displayed on it. Beside her stood
a frightened young woman, with a look of desperation on her face. The elder of
the two stepped forward to address the camera, “ witness now the fall of our
grand station before our might!.”, his voice thundered throughout the hanger. “
Your defenses overran, your troops
captured, your station ours!” Will there ever be a worthy challenge we
may write into our history after your destruction from your kind?” A sinister
laugh accompanied him as he continued, “ Little humans, you give us not a tail
or war, but a tail of amusement. Be grateful the only existence offered by us
will be on our hunter worlds for our
pleasure. Even our slaves hold a higher station of honor to us, than your
species.” Motioning to the Vanguard, each on extended their Kur’rit blade
locked inside their armed bracer. Blade snapping out the Vanguard raised their
arms high ready to strike. Spreading his arms wide the elder taunted,” What a
glorious prize we take, to the glory of Sivar and the honor of the emperor!
With this station we invoke the rite of Sivar- Eshad, for the blessing of our
dominant right as warriors to rule the stars through the endless void!”, he
finished. Arms stretched wide a mighty roar burst from his mouth and carried
throughout the hanger. As one the line of vanguard thrust their blades down and
deep into the hearts of their prisoners. Continuing they put their foot paws in
the backs of their victims while pulling free their blades. Roaring in unison
the line of Vanguard shoved their kur’rit blades into the back of the helpless
prisoners skulls with such force the blades exploded through their faces
spraying blood and gore onto the decking. As numerous dead bodies fell to the
floor, the Kilrathi priestess grabbed the woman’s hair jerking it back
violently while shouting, “Sivar- Eshad tir ris ti’rath nar jar’ratcht nar der
ru’lit eir cha!”. Sinking her fangs deep into the woman’s throat the priestess
bit down hard. Blood coursed down the woman’s neck as a gurgled scream
struggled to escape her throat. Eyes locked on the airel camera she tore the
woman’s throat free. Another roar echoed through the hanger backed with another
unified roar from the Vanguard. “ Soon Earth itself will fall to the power of
our claws to the glory of Sivar! Your species is unworthy of the honor of
life.”, Grr’Toliss roared powerfully. “ The only remains of your existence will
be the tales echoed through space of our victories! Come humans, if you dare!
Our tribute to sivar shall be made with your blood!” Grr’ Toliss challenged. As
the screen went black outraged shouts and cries for immediate retaliation
filled the briefing room. For Michael a roaring inferno of rage threatened to
consume him at having just witnessed the video. AS Commander Taylor tried to
settle the crowd Michael looked over his shoulder only to find Jessica had
disappeared. Surveying the room she was nowhere to be found. * * * * * T.C.S Phobias Both the little girl and boy ran to their dead father, full of
tears. “ Ryan! Halie! Get behind me now!”, said the second man with his arms
raised. Both small children reluctantly left their dead father hurrying behind
the second man. “ Please don’t kill us.”, he pleaded. Rral’Mek had his weapon
trained on the man but could barely see him. Dizzy and uncoordinated his
consciousness was fading fast. He needed to stop the flow of blood and rest
before darkness overtook him, but needed to get a safe place. The hallways
aboard an enemy ship wasn’t an ideal location to treat nor bandage his wounded
leg. He didn’t want to chance an encounter with a human patrol or forces from
the Nar’Issk clan stumbling upon him. Exhausted he found it becoming
harder and harder to think. Quickly Rral’Mek spun his weapon catching hold of
the nozzle not liking what he was fixing to do. Both the man and two young
children watched him uncertainty. Taking a deep breath he raised the butt of
the rifle up high. Swinging down as hard as he dared he slammed the rifle into
his wounded leg. An explosion of pain firered through his leg like electricity
in a circuit. Grimacing his eyes watered as he tried to fight back the waves of
agony that coursed from his wound. Anger amplified his will to survive
,coursing through his body. Though nothing pleasurable came from pain, it did
indeed let you know you were alive. Heart pumping the dizziness faded and
his vision cleared if only to be for a short while. Seeing what might be
a chance to escape, the man with the children began to sneak away. Rral’Mek had
his laser rifle back on them in the blink of an eye. All three froze. Fishing
through the utility belt Rral’Mek found and pulled free a translator earpiece
like the one he had. Growling he tossed it to the man, while letting the nozzle
of the rifle make his intentions clear. Cautiously and with his free hand out
wide the man bent down picking up the earpiece and inserting it in his ear. “
You will take me to a healing station, now!” Rral’Mek ordered. “ Let the
children go and I will.”, the man replied. Feeling the dizziness already
starting to return, he firered a shot that sailed past the man’s head while
growling,” You are not in a position to offer terms!” “ Okay! Okay! Please just
don’t shoot us.” “Go” Rral’Mek pressed. “ Ryan, Halie get in front of me and
stay quiet.” When both of them had moved in front of the man, he scooped each
one up in his arms. With Rral’Mek close behind the man headed down the hallway,
slowly and cautiously making sure to make no sudden movements would upset his
captor. After making several turns at various junctions they came to a set of
maintenance stairs leading down. Every stair provided Rral’Mek a new level of
agony, from his throbbing leg that grew with every step. He had to fight to
keep from growling at his bleeding affliction. He refused to show weakness. The
pain however was helping him keep from
slipping into unconsciousness, but for how long he didn’t know. Both the boy
and girl were watching him with their faces partly buried in the man’s
shoulder. Annoyed at their stares Rral’Mek flattened his ears and hissed
looking away. He had shot and killed the cubs father in front of them. This
bothered him, when as a warrior it shouldn’t have, yet it did. Exiting the stairway,
they came to another junction. This hallway like the others had burnt wall
consoles, loose exposed pipes dripping coolant from the ceiling that were mixed
in with power and wirelines. Rusted and bent ceiling panels littered the
floor making it that much more difficult for Rral’Mek to navigate through. Eyes
losing focus but still alert numerous blaster fire covered the hallway walls
telling him of a battle recently fought. He could still smell a burnt metallic
odor emanating from the walls were laser burns had been made from the fighting.
Several broken security cameras dangled from the junctions corner walls their
exposed wiring sparking periodically. On the left corner wall was a hatchway
door with a large red cross on it. With Rral’Mek following, the man went to the
door and set down the little boy who stood hunkered close by. His eyes were red
and swollen from crying. “Uncle, I need to pee.”, he whispered. “Shush, you’ll
be okay. Just do you best to hold it. If you can’t don’t worry, I won't tell
anyone. Cross my heart.” the man replied, trying to comfort his nephew. He began entering a code in a nearby console.
“Is he going to kill us?”, the little boy asked scared. “Hush, we’ll be okay. “he
replied trying to hide his nervousness, looking back over at Rral’Mek who had
his eyes locked on him. It didn’t pass his attention the blaster was aimed
straight at his back. Protesting with a harsh grating sound the doors struggled
open. Ears perking up Rral’Mek scanned the area looking and listening for any
approaching footsteps that might have been attracted by the sounds. Silence. He
was drained and was having a hard time keeping his hands steady as weakness
threatened to overtake him. “This is one of the med-bays.”, the man informed
him. ``Go in.” “You said you wanted me to take you to a med center. I’ve done
that. You don’t need us anymore.” Snarling Rral’Mek took aim at the man’s head.
“Okay! Alright! Take it easy, you win calm down.” “Get moving!”. Putting his
arms up, the man entered the medical-bay with Ryan and Halie close behind.
Rral’Mek last to enter leaned against the hatch way’s inner frame, exhausted.
Forcing himself inside he slid down against the wall as a new wave of dizziness
hit him from the extensive bleeding. “Close the doors.”, he said trying to
sound harsh. Nodding he moved cautiously to the panel, and closed the
doors, which again shuddered and scraped in protest. Rral’Mek exhaled in
temporary relief. The medical bay was lined with two rows of gatch beds bolted
into the floor. Display screens, scanning equipment and various medical
equipment was neatly arranged beside each bed. A large continuous circled
console system was in the middle of the room, it’s lighted button’s flickering
in and out. Stationed in the center was a holo-graphic system revealing various
personnel profiles and medical information. At the back of the bay was another
hatchway door sealed shut, with four med-carts, their roll tops sealed as
well. A small office cubby sat in one
side of the far wall, it’s door sitting open and motionless. With the med-bay being
dark and cool, the floor plating was like ice causing Rral’Mek to shake despite
himself. Window cabinets were spaced out among the beds. Vails, bottles,
gloves, and other assortments in easy view. He knew he was close to losing
consciousness, which could not be allowed. He needed food and rest, but more
importantly he needed to stop the run of blood seeping from his let. “Find me
food and drink. “gasped. To emphasize his point, he slung the rifle across his
lap. Moving away the man kept a wary eye on his captor and his niece and
nephew. “Please don’t hurt them.”, he said searching the med bay. A short growl
escaped Rral’Mek despite himself.
© 2019 Pwest |
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