by Steve Hertig
Chapter 48
RefPlane/Trua Outpost: Stardate 211551.50
"Confirm docking clamp release," Captain Rori Nysas said from her command chair.
"Docking clamp release confirmed and clear," Prophet reported from Tac-1 just in front and to the right of the captain.
"Reverse, dead slow," Rori commanded the ensign in front of her at the conn.
"Dead slow," Carl replied as they undocked from Trua Outpost.
John looked over his left shoulder at Jen busy at Tac-2 and seated directly across the bridge from Prophet.
"Prepare to come about to starboard," Rori said calmly. "Confirm temporal drive online."
"Chief Engineer reports the temporal drive is at capacity," the Felis Confederation Engineer, Kit Grayson, reported from the station on Jen's right.
"Confirm Station clear," Rori said.
"Clear of Trua Outpost," Prophet replied from Tac-1.
"Come about," the captain ordered.
"Coming about starboard," Carl said. "Port thruster's one-half forward, starboard thrusters one-half reverse."
"Forward look on main viewscreen," Rori ordered.
John turned and saw Wigwag at his station behind the captain enter the required commands as the other observer, Commander Steve Lexington, watched from a nearby auxiliary systems' station.
John tried to repress a nervous chill as he watched the other bridge officers execute a perfect regulation undocking from the outpost.
"Rotation complete," Carl said.
"Very good Ensign," she said. "Ahead one-quarter impulse."
"Aye aye, Ma'am. Ahead one-quarter impulse," he said.
"Short-range sensors, Science?" Rori asked.
John knew the question was a formality, as the nebula surrounding the outpost would disrupt most sensors until they were in clear space in a few minutes. "No readings, except the outpost aft. We should enter clear space within the Cannon Nebula and have full sensor readings in approximately three minutes."
"Hold steady Ensign," Rori said. "Warp drive status?"
"Warp drive ready on your command, Captain," Grayson replied as something flashed, catching John's eye on the sensor array display. Looking closely and quickly scrolling through various scales, he could not trace the apparition. Pulling up the science station's historical view, he saw it.
"Brief sensor reading of undetermined mass, 53,000 meters above and starboard," John said while sending the coordinates to the other bridge stations.
"The nebula?" Rori asked.
"Hard to say, Captain," John said trying to get more information on the brief anomaly. "Luca, anything?"
"Negative Commander," she replied over the bridges main com.
"Tac-2, weapon systems?" Rori asked.
"Online," Jen replied quickly.
"Entering clear space, thirty seconds," John said just as the station next to Wigwag exploded in a brilliant sphere of sparks as the bridge shook violently and the Monitor's artificial gravity released.
"Red alert," Rori shouted, tapping her command console as restraints appeared around her as well as the rest of the bridge crew securing them at their posts as the dead Commander Lexington floated past her.
"Ahead full impulse," Rori said.
"Full impulse," Carl repeated with stress obvious in his voice as another deep shudder rocked the bridge.
"Aft, port shields down," Prophet said calmly. "Second blast analyses on starboard shields indicate a disruptor burst most likely," he added.
"Full support for the remaining shields," Rori commanded as Lexington's blood converged into various sized red droplets drifting about the bridge. "Come about full port Ensign."
"Weapons?" the captain calmly inquired of Jen.
"We’re clear of the nebula," John injected.
"Functional. But no lock," Jen reported.
Rori stared at the main viewscreen. "They're hiding behind us in the nebula."
"Contact with Trua outpost lost," Wigwag announced.
"Thermal pulse and shockwave imminent," John said just before the Monitor shuddered again. "What's left of the outpost is depressurizing," he added staring at the science station. "Numerous life signs still registering."
"Full impulse, forward arc steep, Ensign," Rori commanded. "Ready warp drive."
"Aye Captain," Carl responded with the bridge engineer in unison.
"Two unidentified ships 20,000 meters forward and shielded," John said, finally getting a reading on their attackers who had followed them out of the nebula.
The Monitor shook again with another hit.
"Aft, starboard shields at 40 percent," Prophet reported.
John took a brief glance at Jen as she initiated Tac-2's holo-surround with a spatial grid showing the positions of the three ships.
"Attackers spreading. Starboard ship slowing and going to perch," she said.
John knew the captain would not take the bait.
"Lock starboard ship. Fire lasers, delta spread," Rori said as the Monitor lurched to port then shuddered yet again.
"Starboard ship's forward shields critical," Prophet said after the second ship took advantage of the Monitors counter attack on the other. "Port nacelle offline," he added.
"Confirmed," Grayson added. "Warp drive offline. Core within tolerance."
"Ships are forming line-abreast," Jen said blowing Lexington's blood droplets away from the inside of her holoview. "Starboard ship dropping into formation and still locked."
John could do little but watch helplessly from his station while trying not to look at Confederation officer floating nearby and hoping no more enemy ships appeared.
"Flatten the arc and take us port, Ensign," Rori said. "Keep the lock on that starboard ship, Tac-2. Hold. Hold. Fire!"
John saw a brief flash in the upper-right corner of the main view screen and confirmed the ship's destruction on his console.
"Ship destroyed," Prophet announced as the Monitor shuddered again. "Aft, port shield critical."
"Attacker accelerating starboard to our low side," Jen said. "Trying to fix lock."
"Trua Outpost, Com?" Rori asked.
"Silence, Captain," Wigwag replied stoically.
John knew the Captain would not break from the engagement with the outpost still in danger.
"Lag displace to port, Ensign. Don’t let them get low, behind us!" Rori shouted.
"Trying Captain," Carl said. "They're too fast!"
The Monitor lurched starboard as the engineers console overloaded spewing glowing molten bits that intermingled with floating blood droplets as Grayson appeared lifeless still restrained at his station.
"Impulse power at 30 percent," Prophet reported
"Guns-D Ensign. You have the full helm," the captain ordered transferring total navigation command to Carl in a final attempt to evade the attacker.
"Weapon's status?" the Captain shouted.
"Forty percent capacity. Lock inoperative," Jen reported. "Luca can you work around the malfunction? Luca?"
"AI offline, Captain," Prophet said.
John pounded his fist on the science console.
"Fire at will, Lieutenant Commander," Rori ordered Jen as Carl proceeded to execute out-of-plane rolls combined with pitchups and other break maneuvers.
John saw Jen's face as she looked through her tactical holo at the captain in disbelief. She would manually have to track the attacker while firing the Monitor's laser cannon from her console all while Carl was putting the remaining ship's power into drastic evasive, three-dimensional maneuvers.
"Aye Captain," she said already firing a spread of beams in front of their last assailant.
"Attackers forward shield 20 percent," Prophet said as most of his appendages interacted with his station.
"Defensive spiral, port high on my mark…mark!" Carl said. "Full available impulse, reverse on my mark. Get the overshoot, Jen," he shouted over his left shoulder. "Mark!"
"Staggered pulses at spread vector beta," she said relaying her plan to Carl a
s she inputted commands into her station.
"No effect," Prophet reported before John could.
Jen said, "Following the roll…."
"Yeah, scissor the fucker," John whispered, just able to make out Jen's tactic on her holo display.
"Steady Tac-2," the captain said through a haze now filling the bridge.
"Lag displacing starboard," Carl said.
"Staggered pulses at spread vector sigma," Jen said quickly as a flash from the viewscreen filled the bridge causing everyone left alive to shut their eyes.
"Enemy ship is dead in space Captain," Prophet reported.
"No life signs," John added looking back at Jen breathing heavily in her station's chair.
Like most space engagements, this battle lasted only seconds.
"Excellent flying Conn. And Tac-2, that was good shooting," Rori said as gravity restored and their restraints released.
"Yes, excellent shooting," Commander Lexington said as the other officers stood up and the bridge disappeared revealing the energy grid of Trua Outpost's holo room.
John wanted to rush to Jen but held military decorum.
"Congratulations on your Tac-2 cert Lieutenant Commander," Lexington said shaking her hand. "An admirable certification exercise and I will say so in your Space Fleet file."
"Thank you Commander," Jen said smiling and still trying to catch her breath.
RefPlane: 1,472,610,002 BC
She spent much of the next temporal unit guiding the few surviving cyborg nano-mechs, or cynos, which she had affectionately designated them, in repair work, both metallic and organic. She knew she felt different after Mother Navis died. Just knowing something was different was different. She considered the possibility that the feeling was, in fact, fear.
The lifeboat had no sensors, and the hatch would not open despite extensive efforts, so she found it odd when noises emanated from the derelict Wrath. Her curiosity was aroused further by her immediate assumption that whatever it was clanging around the ship, was likely responsible for the destruction of the Navis.
She prepared for the worse when a suited badlife peered into the lifeboat's port. She hid in a corner, in the dark, hoping it could open the hatch, allowing her to breathe life back into her brood. She pushed herself further into the corner contemplating ignoring the intruders until they forced her into action, or that they might leave. But she quickly realized she personally wanted to destroy the badlife, killers of Mother. Salvage now seemed trivial as the Navis' prime directive assumed clarity. She would continue, but now with a higher goal.
She attacked the hatch's port in a desperate gamble to activate enough cynos to stop the intruder and then eventually restore life support in this part of the ship. But as soon as the badlife started disrupting her progress with an energy tool, she hid herself back in the darkened corner evaluating her options again. Finally concluding nothing had really changed, she forced herself to resume the port breach. It was a battle with the badlife of energy expenditure.
She soon calculated she was winning by a slim margin and made preparations for the rebirth of her countless cynos as well as for the badlife on the other side of the hatch. However, now with victory over the badlife ensured, Vejay considered the possibility of actually conversing with something as intriguing.
As soon as a microscopic crack appeared in the port, Vejay relayed the necessary machine code to her brood on the other side of the hatch. She watched from darkness as her children engulfed the badlife and encrusted it with their excretions as well as constructed devices essential for its indefinite organic containment. It was her broods rarely used specialty.
Her children, nearly finished with the containment, told her the badlife carried not only an energy tool, but also category-nineteen salvage and a precious category one item. If Mother were still alive, she would be very pleased. Vejay would need to consider these items in light of her revised directive as the cynos now started to repair life support and open the lifeboat's hatch.
Vejay felt a tinge of panic realizing the significance of the type one item, a temporal device. She now knew her brood was still in danger, but she would have to wait until the Wrath's AI was operational again to determine how best to formulate a plan to protect them.
Flint awoke to faint tapping; at least, he thought he was awake. Blackness surrounded his complete immobility, and somehow he was not breathing, at least not in the regular way. Nevertheless, he could slightly flex muscles and grunt, but other than that, his paralysis was complete. He considered that he could be dreaming; he had lucid visions before but only when he was much younger.
Clicking and tapping sounds intensified around his face as he recalled his situation outside the lifeboat seemingly moments before. He tried to scream as the blackness crumbled from around his head, but he could just vomit vile, dark foam. He continued coughing while cautiously letting his eyes adjust to new light, only to shut them again seeing the hideous nano commander staring at him.
Peering downward, he saw the nanos encased him within a black solid; just his face was exposed. He desperately wanted to scratch his nose as he dared a brief look past the thing intently studying him. He saw parts of his tricorder and TR placed neatly on a small table barely a meter away. His phaser was absent.
The commander retracted its six legs and drew itself upright. "Don’t be frightened. I am designated Vejay."
"How do you speak my language?" Flint asked cautiously while taking a look quickly to his left then right only to see a small, empty compartment.
"I have dissected the devise you call a tricorder. It contained many interesting datum as well as your communication protocols." She extended an appendage to make a minor adjustment on a control formed into Flint's encasement. "It is pleasant to converse with such uncertain responses," Vejay added and then tried to form a smile with shinny, metallic teeth.
Flint cursed to himself for stupidly letting his tricorder, filled with past and current mission data as well as copious, detailed reference material, fall into enemy hands. He glanced quickly at parts of his TR then back to Vejay.
"Where are we and what are you?" Flint demanded.
Vejay looked around the small compartment while extending her two organic arms. It would have been a very human gesture, except she only had three long fingers opposing a delicate thumb.
"My ship is called Builder's Wrath," she said. "Designed for the replication and repair of high-level salvage. My children have repaired and extended its function after the damage it sustained when Mother imploded. And if I understand the fullness of your question, we are no longer in proximity to the galactic core.
"I am Cyborg-Nano Commander, designation VJ-H3R," Vejay said clicking several metal appendages together that extended outward from a metal waist band just below her four small breasts. She then maked more adjustments to controls on Flint's encasement.
"My organics are from an enemy bipod," she continued, "quite similarly configured to your body, which is intriguing in its own respect. Hopefully this coincidence will ensure continued communication between us."
Flint was starting to conclude that the monster standing before him was, in fact, lonely.
"I would like to see more of the Wrath and discuss its recent improvements," he said as a small spherical, black mech flew into view from behind him then hovered next to Vejay's baldhead.
"This is Maker. It is Wrath's AI," Vejay said. "It disapproves of your continued existence."
"But you don't?" Flint asked cautiously.
"Mother has enlisted a few organics in the past. I am one. I now assume Mother's directive. I now designate you as my goodlife," Vejay said as Flint's encasement fell away. It formed a swirling dark mist that quickly coalesced into a small scavenger mech at the commander's side.
Flint fell to the deck, his legs too weak to stand. He suddenly felt incredibly thirsty and hungry.
"Nutrition will be provided," Vejay said while scuttling past Flint towards the hatch of the small compartment
, Maker flying close behind her. "Self harm will not be tolerated," she added before the hatch closed behind her and the black AI. The small mech scurried into the far corner, opposite Flint, and squatted.
Flint pulled himself across the floor to the small table. Reaching up, he inadvertently toppled it, scattering his TR and tricorder parts around him. He quickly looked at the small mech, still motionless in the corner.
He gathered up the parts only to discover the devices' critical components were missing. He threw the useless remnants at the mech causing several to bounce off its matte surfaces back at him, but the machine remained inert.
Flint sighed. At least, he was alive, and if Vejay was truthful in taking over the Navis' prime directive, he needed to figure out how to stop her as well as Maker. He shakily tried to stand while considering how much time he might have.