Responding to Carpathian’s communication request, “Sir, sorry to bother you, but I need to submit a Preliminary Massive Loss to Life Report,” Euphretes said as the worn out face of the Huron Emperor appeared above his desk. He looked exhausted and Euphretes could feel a mysterious heavy burden weighing down upon Carpathian’s aura.
“Ok Euphretes, one moment.” Carpathian’s face turned around and a muffled, “please give me a few moments,” could be heard before he turned around again, “What’s going on?”
“I have lost all contact with Demon’s Reckoning after a rouge planet intercepted our jump path. All other Ships were able to exit jump and maneuver away from the planet in time; but for some reason, Demon’s Reckoning’s RAI was nowhere to be found while mine impossibly wasn’t granted access to the Predator’s navigation systems. We are beginning search and rescue operations for the missing Ship as I speak, but it isn’t looking promising.”
“How did a rogue planet intercept your jump path?” Carpathian asked without a shred of skepticism.
“Investigations have begun into ascertaining the cause of the rogue planet’s course deviation, but a shift of six degrees off its original flight path can only really be explained by a controlled explosion of ridiculous proportions.”
“Ridiculous proportions? That was technical,” Neuma lightly jested. “An explosion of a third of a Custos Supernova or larger would have been required to make the drastic move in such a short amount of time.
“Ridiculous proportions is really about a one third Custos Supernova,” Euphretes added.
Carpathian’s expression remained the same but the words came out filled with remorse for the fallen. “Thank you for letting me know. I will inform the Secretary of Human Affairs and work on getting you a replacement Ship if possible. Until then, I need to step out as I only had a short break to speak to you.”
“Is everything alright?” Euphretes asked, anxious to know what the negotiations were about.
“Thanks again for the heads up,” Carpathian replied, ignoring his son’s question. “Figure out what happened to the best of your abilities and get back to me if anything else significant comes up. I’ll speak with Emperor Broye about getting his military to clear an extended stay for your Armada at your current location, so go ahead and hold your position once you’ve figured things out on the rogue planet.”
“Sir, you know that I know where you are,” Euphretes pressed, referring to the words, “Joint-Empirical Negotiations” previously written on the Emperor’s profile.
Carpathian lowered his voice, “Look, keep this quiet. You will not be expected to meet at the marshaling site as I plan on opening a second front. I can promise you this, however, you and your soldiers do not need any more distractions. So in the meantime, I need you to shut down all long distance communications access across your Armada. Just know, there is nothing you can do to help me at this time, but I really have to leave. Godspeed.” Carpathian’s face disappeared before Euphretes could even open his mouth, leaving him lost in a world of questions.
“He’s frazzled. I don’t know what it is, but his aura was ripe with fear,” Euphretes commented to Neuma as he strongly considered reaching out to Lani to see if she knew what was going on.
“You heard your orders. Keep everything internal until you speak to Carpathian again. If your soldiers can’t find out for themselves, you shouldn’t either.”
Euphretes sarcastically sighed in agreement before leaving his private quarters to go to the Command Center to oversee the Armada.
“How are we looking?” Euphretes asked several minutes later as he stepped inside the large room.
“Still no signs of human life or any evidence of Demon’s Reckoning, but they are slowly closing in on the planet as we speak,” SR6 answered. “For a rogue planet, it is moving uncharacteristically slow, obviously due to whatever violence that threw it off course. Through the Abyss will know more once they can fully inspect the planet’s surface.”
Euphretes was anxious to reach the planet, hoping against all hope that Fate would provide some survivors. “How long until Steadfast and Loyal gets us there?” He asked, sitting down in a command chair by the data display.
“In one hundred and twenty minutes and counting. The entire Armada can’t match Through the Abyss’s speed but we’re traveling much faster than that planet.”
As SR6 spoke, the display came to life. Hovering four feet above the floor, their objective had a dark purple and blue atmosphere, which lit up from lightning every four seconds like clockwork. A moon still circled the planet, surprisingly close to the surface and spinning nearly ten times faster than its host, assisting the rogue planet in maintaining geothermic tidal forces.
Suddenly, Captain Astoria’s face appeared on the data display, with Crestone standing in the background. “Captain Astoria?” Euphretes asked.
“Sir, we picked up a small signal. It’s too small to be a distress signal or one being transmitted from an Escape Pod, but it’s a signal nonetheless. It’s only slightly out of the way, back toward where Demon’s Reckoning would’ve originally hit the planet. So, we can swing by and grab it on our way. We expect to have its exact coordinates any second,” Astoria briefed.
“Negative, I’ll send another Fleet Vessel to track it down since it’s not an Escape Pod. I need you to continue until you reach the planet and immediately start looking for evidence of an impact,” Euphretes ordered.
“Too easy Sir, we’ll send you the signal’s location once it comes in,” Astoria affirmed.
“Good Copy. We are closing in behind you. Once we get there, you’ll have everyone’s full support.”
Captain Astoria acknowledged the instructions before ending the connection. “Roger that Sir.”
Chapter 8:
Shadow Matter
Senior Leading Operative Crestone Isacks-Yare Huron gingerly sat down on a spare chair in Through the Abyss’s Bridge, trying not to make any unnecessary movements. His heart, racing with anxiety about finding his missing soldiers, was pounding in his chest while his brain felt as if it was swelling inside of his skull. Each mighty heart beat sent sharp pain signals scattering throughout every synapsis within his brain, making it feel as if each one increased the size of his cranium’s swelling. Every small noise irritated him, as if needles were prodding the surface of his ear canal.
“Of course I start to get a migraine at a time like this,” he thought to himself in frustration as the Bridge’s lights seemed unnecessarily bright.
The reality of what had just taken place weighed heavily on Crestone, adding to the pounding in his head. He thought about all the lives that had been designated as his responsibility. The likelihood of ever seeing any of them again was nonexistent. Never had he failed so dramatically or so quickly in his entire life. He had always been a successful leader, finding seemingly impossible ways to bring all of his soldiers back from deployments in one piece. With this last disaster, he wasn’t sure if he would even find parts of a crew member’s body.
Crestone sat in a bubble of physical and emotional misery, unsure what he hated most, the stabbing pain on the top of his spinal column or the sinking feeling of infinite guilt in his soul. Knowing the guilt could wait, the Senior Noncommissioned Officer forced it from his mind, telling himself that he would face his demons later. With the heaviness lifting from his thought processes, all Crestone wanted to do was to take some medicine and sit in a pitch black, sound proof room until the physical assault on his body ended.
For the Senior Leading Operative, headaches appeared suddenly, without warning, and with little time to react before they became debilitating migraines. Unless defensive actions were taken immediately upon the arrival of the first symptoms, the excruciating pain would last for hours. Crestone’s migraines started after surviving a horrific crash five years ago. A Transport that he was riding on took a missile impact far above the ground and was forced to crash land into the side of a mountain. Ever since, Crestone wa
s forced to endure periodic migraines. While a cure existed, the surgery would force him to retire, something he refused to do until the Emperor himself told him to step down.
The battle scared Senior Noncommissioned Officer chose to sit in the navigation section, giving him an excellent vantage point to see the entire Bridge. Reaching up, Crestone massaged his temples and cursed the soldier for taking so long to bring him the medicine. While it had only been a few minutes since he sent the soldier off to medical to find help, it felt like hours to his pain ridden brain. Out of nowhere, a soft touch grazed Crestone’s shoulder while the face of the Ship’s Primary Care Provider appeared and rested at eye level.
Although soft spoken and unassuming, Warden Commander Bishope Francis Huron had a strong reputation in the Huron Royal Special Forces. He was one of only sixteen physicians to have ever passed the eight year Royal Special Forces program as an already licensed and practicing doctor. He was not overly tall, a mere 5’ 10”, and weighed in at a scant 150 lbs. His sandy hair was cut short and close to his scalp, making his bushy eyebrows appear all the more wild and unkempt. In addition, his skin tone seemed a tad unnatural, leading people to wonder if maybe he might be using a bronzer. Fortunately, what he lacked in physical form, he more than made up for in intelligence. He was truly, superhumanly gifted.
Bishope enjoyed the benefits of having a near perfect photographic memory. His brain had enough grey matter to allow for the organ to break down and analyze an image from the past better than most computer operating systems. In surgery, he maintained a ninety-nine percent success rate, despite taking on risky operations without a second thought.
“I hope you brought the strong stuff Sir, otherwise you can just turn around and walk away,” Crestone coldly expressed.
Bishope held out his hand, “Here, if this doesn’t help, then I am afraid you will just have to wait it out,” he warned.
In the gloved hand were three metallic pills, a newly formulated medicine that utilized nano droids along with pharmaceuticals to treat the patient. The droids were able carry the medicine directly to the source, bypassing the liver and other destructive organs. They could easily cross the blood brain barrier to expedite the healing process for internal brain injuries or to gain unadulterated access to the central nervous system. The particular medicine being offered to Crestone worked by reading the body’s pain responses. Chemicals in the pills reacted to electrical signals created by the body’s pain firing nerves, sending the nano droids with their pain-blocking medication to the source without affecting sobriety.
Crestone grabbed the pills and popped them into his mouth, swallowing without the aid of water, “For everyone’s sake, I hope these work,” he grumbled.
Commander Bishope stood back up, “Give it anywhere from five to twenty minutes for the little buggers in there to wake up. In the meantime, I am going to give you a quick reacting formula that will at least put a dent in the pain should the pills fail you. This should at least get you through the next shift or two,” the physician explained while reaching into his bag and pulling out a small factory-sealed cup.
Ripping off the lid, “Will do. Thanks,” Crestone replied before downing the shot of foul tasting liquid.
“Anytime Senior Op. You know where to find me if it gets any worse,” Bishope answered with respect, gently placing his hand back on Crestone’s shoulder before leaving.
Fifteen minutes later, Crestone’s heart rate had slowed and he could literally feel the pain easing slightly with each throbbing beat. The sensation was incredibly gratifying to the metaphysically thrashed brain. Crestone breathed a huge sigh of relief knowing that he could at least get through the next twenty-four hours before temporarily passing the torch on to someone else if he had to. “How much longer until we can start looking for life on the planet’s surface?” He asked the Navigation Section’s Noncommissioned Officer in Charge.
“We are just about close enough to start sending First Response Droids. Another fifteen and we will be able to start using our longer range scanners. Based on the amount of dust and debris we passed along the way, it’s looking like there’s going to be at least one impact site,” An accented voice responded. Crestone, thankful for the subsiding pain, rose from his seat without responding and made his way to the front of the Bridge to stand next to Through the Abyss’s Command Team.
Warden Commander Ardein Timm Huron, Through the Abyss’s Executive Officer now that Euphretes was onboard another Ship, stood a foot taller than Captain Astoria or his Senior NCO, Leading Operative Mercany. The Ship’s XO maintained a bald head while his eyes could involuntarily shift from light green to ashy grey. Caused by a non-dangerous genetic mutation that some parents even paid for their children to have, the pigmentation mostly stayed a quiet shade of jade unless he underwent immense times of stress. Ardein spent the vast majority of his military career in some form of combat zone, destroying any desire he may have had to play political games now that he was a Mid-Grade Officer. Devoutly loyal to his soldiers and hating when common sense got superseded by ambitious people, Ardein was not afraid to speak his mind, regardless of the audience. As one of the few remaining true Combat Officers, his experience perfectly matched that of his boss, Warden Captain Astoria.
Leading Operative Mercany Gomerze Huron was sent to fill the opened slot left behind by Crestone who had assumed leadership on Steadfast and Loyal. She was only the tenth female Special Operations soldier to make it to the Senior Level Noncommissioned Officer Rank of Leading Operative. She was ruthlessly honest with her crew when she needed to be yet still maintained a highly approachable demeanor for her soldiers. Well loved and respected by her crew, she was one of the only females in the entire Huron Military who actually intimidated Euphretes with her spirited personality.
“Leading Operative Mercany, what’s your plan for beginning the search?” Crestone asked as he stopped and stood next to her.
“Well Senior Op, here soon we will be able to start mapping the surface. We are sending a team of drones any moment now to begin working on the far side of the planet while we work the front end. Other than looking for survivors, our priority will be checking for recent crater activity or impact sites. Once we get a hit, I plan on sending another team of Excavation Drones through the atmosphere to get a better look at what we’re dealing with surface wise.” She responded.
“Admiral Euphretes didn’t need to send me after all,” Crestone answered with a jovial grin, the compliment telling Mercany that she had it all under control. After checking on the other two members of Through the Abyss’s Command Team, Crestone gave them their space and decided to monitor the Bridge’s central primary data display. With the Rogue Planet’s atmosphere and rough images of the surface starting to appear, he waited in anticipation.
Because of the object’s thick atmosphere, the data display at first portrayed the planet’s surface using millions of thin, contoured yellow lines. Still outside penetrating scanner distance, only two other viewpoints were available to inspect the planet’s ground. These were a medium level probe searching for discrepancies in the chemical makeup of the planet’s air quality and an organic signature sensor looking for any trace of recent biological activity. Even for a rogue planet, the surface below the atmosphere was incredibly flat. So much so, that Crestone at first thought the entire thing was simply a giant iced over ocean. When he switched images to the medium level piercing and biological marker sensors however, he learned that the lonely planet was just naturally smooth.
Once the Delta Infiltrator came within range, the data display truly came to life. Able to penetrate several hundred yards into the surface and reflect countless amounts of information, real time images of its surface began springing up.
Crestone stood in silence and watched the monotonous terrain pass by as the Bridge started to bustle with activity. After another minute, the beginning of a frozen ocean came into view. Ice, eighty feet thick, protected the life sustaining water underneath from the frigid te
mperatures of the planet’s surface. Thermal vents, spewing molten rock, criss crossed the ocean’s surface and ensured that the water never froze completely solid.
Organic life markers started to sky rocket, hidden at first by the thick layer of ice. Images of sea creatures started popping up. Their sizes blew Crestone away, with some being close to the same size as a Hunter. To his disappointment however, none of the larger creatures appeared to be moving. In fact, as he zoomed in, NONE of the animals were moving. While they could all be in some form of deep sleep to endure the frigid temperatures and reduce their need for food, Crestone had a sinking feeling that they had all died recently, without warning.
Now more certain that they would find an impact site for a Predator Class Fleet Vessel and with the Command Team starting to use the primary data display, Crestone walked back over to the Navigation Section and again spoke to the Noncommissioned Officer in Charge. “I need you to mark this planet’s location and get it on the Deep Space Weather Watch List. Should we find a crash site, teams will need to scour this thing to ensure nothing classified gets missed and subsequently falls into enemy hands.”
Through the Abyss Page 20