The Terran Cycle Boxset

by Philip C. Quaintrell

  “Every hit increases its size!” one of the crew barked.

  “Why has it jumped to the outskirts?” Roland asked out loud. Judging by the looks he received, the bounty hunter was the first one to ponder its choice of destination.

  Everyone turned back to the viewport, where the distant moon was no longer so distant. Uthor strode down the centre aisle and commanded the image be magnified. Roland noted the confusion on everyone’s face, even the Gomar appeared distressed by the sight. The pointed behemoth ploughed through space, ignoring the Conclave ships, and headed straight for the moon.

  “What is it doing?” Telarrek asked.

  The Novaarian’s answer came with an unsettling image across the viewport. Most of the bridge crew gasped when the massive ship dived into the moon, creating a plume of debris that masked the destruction.

  “It must have been damaged,” Charge Ilo commented, with a hint of hope in her voice. “Perhaps our barrage disrupted its navigation array.”

  The debris continued to disguise the surface of the moon where the ship had nose-dived into the rock. Roland narrowed his vision to the area around the hurricane of dust and noted the expanding cracks.

  “I don't think it’s damaged…” The bounty hunter ignored the helmsman’s sour look and changed the area of magnification himself.

  The cracks were growing outwards from the point of entry and quickly becoming as large as valleys. The fleet had come to a halt above the surface but continued to launch everything into what must have been a large crater by now.

  An alert flashed up, prompting the helmsman’s report. “High Charge, we’re picking mass disruption across the entire moon.”

  “That’ll happen when an entire fleet offloads its goods into the surface,” Roland flippantly commented.

  The helmsman clarified, “The disruption is seismic. It’s coming from within the moon…”

  Uthor puffed out his mighty chest. “This isn’t over yet.”

  The moon physically changed shape, with entire sections imploding inwards, towards the core. Roland observed the devastating phenomenon, likening the effects to that of a black hole. Sef shifted his sizable weight and placed a hand on Vox’s shoulder. The two appeared to hold a brief discussion before the mean-looking red-head spoke up.

  “The ship is made from pure nanocelium.” Everyone turned to listen. “Given an appropriate resource, nanocelium will consume and replicate.”

  Vox’s words illuminated a new type of fear across the variety of alien expressions. Roland had seen that kind of fear consume the best of soldiers; the realisation that their enemy couldn't be defeated.

  “So… It’s just having lunch?” Roland’s levity wasn't appreciated.

  Uthor swivelled back to the viewport. “Move the fleets round to the other side of the moon!”

  The Sentinel’s main engines came online, pushing the lengthy, green ship over the top of the moon.

  Roland…

  The bounty hunter heard Sef’s distinct voice echo inside his mind and felt somewhat ridiculous when he replied with a questioning thought.

  Where is the Rackham? Sef asked.

  Close. Len’s keeping perfectly quiet for the first time in his miserable life.

  In truth, Roland was surprised that the Ch’kara had actually followed them, expecting the little gas cloud to have moved on to a new life with the most advanced ship in his possession.

  Have him dock the Sentinel. Sef’s tone was irritatingly commanding.

  You fixing to cut and run, Mr. Gomar?

  Roland turned around and offered a cheeky smile as if Sef was coming round to his way of thinking. With that in mind, the bounty hunter realised he had yet to assess the environment, as he normally did. By now he should have already located his exit strategy and made an effort to disappear. Why was he sticking around?

  The Rackham can be adapted for combat. It can fire nanocelium missiles capable of cancelling out the nanocelium inside that ship. Sef sounded more than a little impatient.

  “Well, when you put it like that…” Roland accidentally responded out loud, eliciting a strange look from Telarrek.

  The bounty hunter shrugged and turned away while using his mental link to the Rackham to make contact. Thankfully, the ship was only a couple of miles off the Sentinel’s starboard bow, keeping it within range. Roland only wished he could see Ch’len’s face when he lost control.

  “We have a plan,” Li’ara announced, gathering everyone’s attention. “The Rackham is going to board and we’re going to join the fight.”

  Roland couldn't help the height of his eyebrows, which jumped into his forehead. Li’ara gave him a look, which told of her knowledge on the matter. Roland hadn't known Li’ara was listening to their mental conversation… That was going to be annoying.

  Uthor frowned his rocky brow. “And how is the Rackham going to help?”

  “It has nanocelium-based weaponry,” Li’ara replied. “It might be the only thing that makes a dent.”

  Uthor looked over the Gomar and rested on Malekk’s unconscious form, before turning to Roland. “I take it the Rackham is close by… I’m afraid I cannot allow it. I want you all where I can see you, not disappearing in a ship we can't track.” The Raalak fixed Roland with a lasting look of derision.

  “Uthor…” Telarrek silently pleaded with his old friend, but the Raalak’s attention was drawn to the viewport, along with everyone else.

  The Sentinel had reached the other side of the moon now, along with the fleets, who had taken up attack positions again. It made no difference. The moon’s surface imploded in a single spot, before exploding with the emergence of the enemy ship. It was much bigger than when it had entered the moon; Roland didn't need sensor feedback to tell him that. Its bronze hull shot out of the moon with a force similar to an intrinium bolt leaving a Tri-roller. Three of the ships in the third fleet were obliterated instantly on impact, their explosions rippling across the alien hull, which continued its journey into the heart of the Raalakian system.

  “World Breakers - NOW!” Uthor commanded without hesitation.

  Ilo relayed his order to the select fleet vessels that possessed the planet-ending missiles, as well as the Marillion. Roland had wanted to see the effects of these weapons since he first heard of them, though using them on a ship would be less impressive than using it on an actual planet. The bounty hunter could feel the Rackham secretly entering the hangar bay of the Sentinel, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from the viewport.

  “Nineteen World Breakers have been launched, sir!” one of the bridge crew announced.

  Silence settled over the bridge, as they watched nineteen brilliantly blue missiles streak across the vastness of space. One after another, the missiles collided with the alien ship and erupted in a flash that had to be dimmed by the viewport. Roland watched the data on the helmsman’s holographic screen. The report wasn't good.

  “Speed, hull strength, it’s not even wobbled off course!” Roland looked at Uthor.

  “It’s retaliating!” Charge Ilo gasped.

  Golden arcs flew through the black of space and detonated against the inferior hulls of the Conclave fleet. A Nexus class vessel, in the centre of the fleet, flashed, imitating a supernova and consumed four smaller ships surrounding it. The starrillium had been ruptured violently, just as the Valoran had when Roland killed the majority of the Gomar, a year ago.

  Uthor slammed his solid fist on the nearest console. “Match speed and continue to fire everything we have. No ship is to stop until all munitions are spent!” The Raalakian turned to the Gomar and Li’ara. “Can the Rackham really have any effect?”

  “We have to try.” Li’ara glanced at Roland, making certain the ship was available.

  Uthor let out a gravelly sigh. “If you can make a hole in that thing, we can fire another world breaker into it. You have permission to dock, Mr. North.”

  “The Rackham landed a couple of minutes ago.” Roland patronisingly patted the High Charge
on the arm and made for the exit.

  Jed stood over helmsman Maloy, the only two on the bridge of the Paladin. The first Raalakian rescue ship, which could only take a maximum of a hundred people, had created chaos across the habitat. The Conclave Watch that ensures the humans never strayed beyond the habitat’s environment was too busy to notice one small engineering ship depart. The pair had wasted no time, sprinting to the bridge, and firing up the arc ship’s solar drive.

  “We don't have nearly enough solarcite to make a jump, Sir,” Maloy reported. “We could make a run for the nearest sun, but based on the data we received, that ship is travelling much faster than our sub-light engines could ever handle.”

  Jed could feel the beads of sweat dripping down his cheeks. “We don't have a choice, Maloy. I didn't travel two hundred years into the future to lie down and die. Dock us over there.”

  The captain left Maloy to do his job, instead turning to the communication array. The evacuation would go quicker if Captain Fey knew where to herd everyone. It was going to be a tight squeeze since the Paladin was only designed to hold a hundred thousand occupants. Still, a tight squeeze was better than death.

  He only hoped they had time.

  Roland fell into his captain’s chair with delight, enjoying its familiar feel. Ch’len had practically imploded when four of the twelve Gomar entered the bridge. Sef had explained that the rest were staying in the hold to focus their efforts on keeping Malekk comatose. Something about having the infected Terran onboard the Rackham disturbed the bounty hunter.

  The Rackham slowly lifted off the Sentinel’s deck and turned towards the rectangular exit. Roland blew on his hands and rubbed them together, before setting them down on the main control console.

  “Let’s skip to the good bit…”

  The Rackham shot out of the Sentinel and made a quick course correction to keep in line with the green ship. What was left of the fleets continued to dog the alien vessel, with the Marillion offering salvo after salvo of munitions. The enemy ship took every hit, offering two of its own for every missile that found its bronze hull. The third and fourth fleet were losing numbers by the second.

  Roland veered the ship to the starboard and careened over the top of the Sentinel. The newest ship in the fleet had taken a battering across the bow, though they had hardly felt it prior to lifting off, a testament to the mighty ship’s design. The golden orb of the Marillion was impossible to miss, as it slowly overtook the fleet and approached the enemy vessel from the port side. Patches of scorched black marred the golden surface and trailed dying fire and dissipating smoke. No ship could avoid the enemy’s targeting apparently.

  Except maybe one…

  The Rackham soon left the Sentinel behind and slipped between the red Conclave ships, weaving and dodging the sporadic explosions. Hundreds of red Darts poured out of the Nebula Class vessels and dropped into attack patterns, but the enemy ship had only to unleash one salvo to create a chain reaction, killing them all.

  “Whatever you’re going to do, do it fast,” Roland said, his concentration split. “We’ll be within weapons range soon.”

  One of the Nebula Class vessels took a critical hit, halting its trajectory immediately. The size of the ship forced the Rackham to dive or fly straight into its dying engines. The Nebula continued to rupture and explode as the Rackham flew under its belly, every new explosion sending vibrations through the hull.

  Vox stood forward. “Garrion, Ariah…” The red-head gestured for the Gomar to take up positions either side of the bridge.

  Sef nodded once at Vox and left the bridge. Roland’s internal sensors told the bounty hunter that the big Gomar was heading for the hold again. Was Malekk waking up? The break in concentration almost cost them all their lives, when Roland made a quick correction to avoid a floating piece of debris, ten times the size of the Rackham.

  “Would you like me to fly?” Li’ara offered.

  Roland gritted his teeth and focused on the viewport. “Backseat drivers…”

  Several alerts flashed across the console, informing him of multiple changes to the ship’s structure. Before Roland could ask what they were doing to his ship, a new message appeared, explaining that Garrion and Ariah were now manning weapons stations. New consoles and chairs formed upwards, out of the nanocelium decking, and created perfect working stations.

  “I’m taking command,” Vox announced.

  “The hell you are!” Roland had more follow up remarks and insults, but the chair was literally taken out from under him.

  Ch’len, Li’ara and himself suddenly found themselves floating above the consoles as if gravity had forgotten them. Roland wiggled about in an effort to reach the floor again, but all three of them were completely suspended.

  “What’s happening?” Ch’len squealed.

  Vox replied calmly, “I’ve put you all into a stasis field.” The Gomar tapped her temple, indicating the lack of technology involved. “We’re putting the ship into attack mode. You won't survive the kind of manoeuvres we will be forced to use. Artificial gravity has been deactivated, along with the inertial dampeners.” Despite this fact, all three of the Gomar were stood and sat perfectly at their stations.

  “I'm not happy about this!” Everyone ignored Roland.

  The enemy ship had consumed the viewport by now. The Marillion had been forced to back away, slowly dropping behind the fleets. The golden ship had taken the brunt of the enemy’s retaliation in an attempt to shield them from the constant barrage.

  “The Marillion has lost FTL capability,” Garrion said. The male Gomar wore his dreadlocks down to the middle of his back, but it was his vibrant blue eyes against his dark skin that constantly caught Roland’s attention.

  “As long as the Sentinel is with us,” Vox replied. “We need at least one of those World Breakers.”

  “We’re in range,” Ariah, a typically beautiful blonde Gomar, announced.

  “Concentrate on the same coordinates. Do not fire unless you have a perfect target lock, we can't afford to waste ammunition scratching the sides.” Vox was stood in the centre of the bridge, surrounded by holographic readouts and consoles that dropped from the ceiling.

  The viewport blurred suddenly when the Rackham changed direction with enough speed to have killed its inhabitants. Defying the inertia, the three Gomar remained fixed in place, while Roland and the others remained suspended in line with the ship’s movements. Had the bounty hunter still been in his chair, the manoeuvre would have slammed him into the wall and reduced him to mush.

  The image in the viewport only levelled out for a moment before another sharp turn was required. Their increasing proximity to the enemy ship was making it harder to evade. Every missile that missed its mark continued on to destroy one of the Concave vessels. Roland kept his eyes on the console beneath him, watching the readouts from the Gomar’s assault. The Rackham was firing energy based munitions, as well as missiles comprised of nanocelium. Their aim was uncanny, with the two Gomar syncing their shots perfectly on the same patch of hull. Their firing only stopped when a sudden change in direction was required. More than once Roland thought he saw the projectile that would be the end of them, but Vox always dodged it. Either that or she was using her abilities to re-direct the missiles.

  “I’m opening a channel with the Sentinel,” Vox said. “Charge Ilo, respond.”

  “We’re here… erm.” The alien hesitated with the name.

  “You need to pull the fleet back,” Vox suggested immediately. “Have them surround the Sentinel to bolster your shields.”

  “What?” Ilo sounded horrified.

  “We’re going to cut a hole in that thing soon. When we do there’s only going to be a short time to fire a world breaker into the heart of it. The Sentinel must survive long enough to launch that missile. Sacrifices must be made if your ship is to last much longer. My sensors indicate that forty-five percent of the Sentinel is already beyond repair, it’s targeting your engines.”

 
; There was a pause on the other end. “Redeploying now.”

  “Be ready for that opening.” Vox cut the feed.

  The Rackham came back up on the enemy’s port side and continued to hail a rain of nanocelium hell across the hull. Roland looked up from the console below and noted the giant gas planet coming up on the starboard side of the enemy ship. That planet was the closest neighbor to Arakesh, the Raalakian homeworld and the current location of humanity’s remnants. They were getting closer.

  “That’s it!” Garrion shouted. “We can't fire any more projectiles without compromising the Rackham’s structural integrity.”

  “We still have energy-based projectiles,” Ariah commented, her focus never wavering from the holographics.

  “It doesn't matter now,” Vox observed. “That hole’s plenty big enough.”

  They all watched as the Sentinel slowly came up on their port side and overtook their pursuit. Hundreds of Conclave vessels were being picked off by the enemy ship, which had yet to slow down or drop into an attack pattern. The Sentinel’s green hull was awash with flashes of exploding ships, though more than one found a hole in the protective net, punched through the shields and into the green hull.

  “Come on…” Roland muttered under his breath. “Fire it!”

  “They’re hit!” Garrion called out. “The Sentinel’s main engines have been taken out.”

  The gas giant dominated the starboard viewport now, its swirling orange and red surface mixing together like oil. Lightning danced across the storm that consumed a whole quarter of the planet’s upper hemisphere. Roland could see what was going to happen before Garrion finished his report.

  “They’re falling behind,” Garrion continued. “They’re caught in the planet’s gravity well.”

  “Where’s the Marillion?” Ariah asked.

  “They’re not even on our sensors anymore,” Vox replied with dismay.

  The enemy ship continued ever onward, oblivious to the path of sheer destruction it had left in its wake. Even the Rackham was backing off now, the bronze ship losing its size with every second, every second that brought it closer to Arakesh.