MotherShip

by Tony Chandler

  Rawlon growled under his breath. “The Thunderer is now the only ship I have that still has a functioning hybrid weapon.” He nodded stoically.

  “Send word to Trakam-he has command of the Kraaqi fleet now.” Rawlon looked down. “What’s left of it,” he whispered, so that nobody heard.

  Rawlon stood and walked to the center of the bridge. Standing there, his right hand gripping the rapier’s handle still in its scabbard, he looked at what was before him.

  Several stations were already destroyed; main power was still off-line, evidenced by the red glow of the emergency lighting. Half of his bridge crew was missing, wounded and taken to medical-or dead.

  “You have been the best crew any Kraaqi Captain ever commanded.” Rawlon gazed proudly at them all.

  The Thunderer shuddered from another direct hit.

  “Engines still functioning, but we have no more shields, sir. We have just lost hull integrity in sections B-Seventeen through Twenty-three,” Curja reported diligently.

  “Order Abandon Ship , Curja. All non-essential personnel.” Rawlon thought a moment. “No, all personnel will evacuate. But first, pass all Engineering controls over to the Bridge.”

  Rawlon walked back to his command chair. He looked again at his brave crew.

  “I want all of you evacuated in exactly ten minutes. But first, we need to steer the Thunderer down the throat of the T’kaan ship before us.”

  Mother suddenly banked hard to port, missing another salvo from the pursuing frigates. Her super-weapon, the hybrid, was almost primed and the enemy still had not sensed her next move.

  That was good.

  Her sensors registered that the T’kaan Great Horned ship was powering its hyperdrive engines. It looked like the T’kaan finally realized that the puny humans and their allies might possibly win after all.

  But it was too late-for all of them.

  “Kyle. Jaric. Disengage and retreat. Send word for a general retreat. There is no need for any more losses.”

  But neither Kyle nor Jaric answered as the comm channels remained deathly silent.

  Mother did not know what this meant. She wanted to focus her processors, but could not. She shuddered as another direct hit shook her violently and she felt her shields fall to zero strength.

  Accelerating her engines, she dove for the prow of the T’kaan ship. As she drew near, the creature-ship began evasive maneuvers.

  But Mother was too fast. As she kicked her engines again, she slipped underneath and then into the opening that led inside.

  The three pursuing frigates followed her inside seconds later.

  Mother stretched her sensors out as she entered the total darkness of the T’kaan ship. She felt the strange, overpowering readings of the creatures all around her. Almost without thinking, she began recording them.

  Her sensors were blinded momentarily by the sheer enormity of the ship. But then she focused, and a picture began to take shape.

  She was inside a huge, pitch-black labyrinth.

  As she maneuvered through the huge tunnels, she discovered a surprise.

  Along the inner walls, great city-horns rose full of squirming T’kaan young-the fully grown maggots now in the second stage of life. Everywhere paths, roads, and super highways full of T’kaan led from city-horn to city-horn.

  City-horns rose by the tens of thousands, each one filled with hundreds of thousands of T’kaan. She registered factories, shipyards, and other signs that a complex society existed inside this almost completely darkened place.

  Mother tried to make out smaller details.

  Seconds later, she did find T’kaan in other stages of life-they seemed to be leading the youth. But she noticed something strange -

  In one instant, thousands of T’kaan had disappeared from where they had once been, seemingly absorbed by the interior walls of the great creature-ship as they traveled the grooved roads. But oddly, nearby T’kaan did not seem to notice their sudden disappearance with any anxiety.

  Mother stretched her sensors to that single spot where the T’kaan had been absorbed - there was no other word to describe what she had just seen. She recoiled her sensors almost simultaneously as the hideous answer came to her.

  The creature-ship had eaten the T’kaan.

  And it was eating more; Mother’s wide field sensors sensed more being absorbed every few seconds all along the massive interior. Of the hundreds of billions of life signs she saw in a single instant, millions were suddenly absorbed.

  Mother realized with a sinking feeling that she was hopelessly lost. She wasn’t sure now what direction she was pointed in. She had only that massive sensor reading that showed her the heart of the creature-ship’s life source.

  She did not want to die, to become nonexistent. Mother began calculating tens of millions of possible solutions. But there were no solutions to her surviving the resulting explosion if she did not find a way out within twenty seconds after she had fired.

  The three frigates blocked her from going back out the way she had come. And yet, that seemed the only way out.

  Still, she stretched her sensors, sending the new data into her circuits and rerunning the analysis one last time.

  A near-miss from one of the frigates sent her reeling. But she quickly righted herself as she leapt into another section of the seemingly endless labyrinths that filled the creature-ship.

  She sent more processing to access the damage, and discovered her main power grid off-line, damaged beyond her present capabilities of repair. Her sensors also reported that the next frigate was beginning to fire. Another near-miss would finish her backup grid, and she would be defenseless.

  Mother sent the prewritten message she had prepared for Minstrel. It was short and encrypted. She had hoped she would never have reason to send it.

  As she fired her hybrid weapon at the target, her sensors continued to stretch out, seeking for a way out. Her analysis for escape continued to run as well.

  Everything around her in the darkness suddenly shuddered. Her weapon struck home, a direct hit right into the heart of the creature-ship. Deep inside the now dying entity, a massive overload began, signaling its death knell.

  Out of the total darkness, her sensors computed the searing effects of the coming explosion. But the massive explosion was not originating from the direct line of her shot-a wave of total destruction emanating from her strike.

  She made a last calculation as she powered her engines to full throttle. But suddenly, the frigates appeared from behind a massive interior wall and fired at her even as the oncoming destruction reached for her from the other direction.

  She had no place to run.

  Mother fired her main guns into another section of the creature-ship with her sensors still reaching out in search of escape even as the edge of the growing explosion registered on her visual sensors for the first time-a boiling wave of debris accelerating with each millisecond. Behind her, the Frigates fired again as Mother turned into another section of the interior labyrinth.

  Mother realized with a sickening surge that her window of escape was at an end. Still, she raced her engines, diving into another section. Immediately her sensors registered the enormous internal damage....

  The Thunderer shuddered again.

  Rawlon pushed the controls for Battery C-Twelve to fire. But nothing happened. The weapon’s systems were off-line again.

  “Evacuate the Bridge!” Rawlon shouted.

  But nobody moved.

  “We stay with you, First Captain,” Curja said.

  Rawlon slowly looked at them all, his eyes narrowed and hard. He nodded with approval, balancing himself as the battleship lurched again from more direct hits. He sat down.

  “Full speed-into the opening below the horned prow.”

  The ship’s engines groaned and slowly responded. The Kraaqi battleship slipped inside and into the dense blackness.

  “T’kaan warships are following,” Curja reported.

  “Let them,” Rawlon
said.

  Suddenly sparks and flames lit the bridge as another salvo sent everyone down. Rawlon felt the flames burn him, and the stench of his own burning skin seared his nose.

  He raised himself, shaking the burning material off his arm. He swayed as his vision blurred, but he grabbed hold of his chair and steadied himself. Moving slowly, he sat down again.

  “Begin Self-Destruct sequence. Short timing-set to thirty seconds.”

  “Yes, sir,” Curja said as he painfully raised himself back to his station.

  Rawlon began punching the console controls on the arm of his chair as the Thunderer’s sensors reached out into the bowels of the creature-ship. Rawlon tapped his fingers impatiently as he waited, and then he smiled. “These are the coordinates for the hybrid weapon. Fire on my mark.”

  “All weapons are off-line, including the hybrid weapon,” Curja said slowly.

  Rawlon gritted his teeth and groaned with pain. “Get the hybrid weapon back. Everyone, concentrate on that single task!”

  Behind him, Rawlon knew the T’kaan ships were powering their weapons for their last strike. His crew had to have the hybrid weapon back first. As he looked around, the only officer that could stand was Curja.

  Rawlon grimaced as he stood, and then stumbled to Curja’s station. Blood covered the console so thickly that the displays were blurred and almost unreadable.

  “No wonder you have such trouble, Curja. You’re bleeding all over the controls.”

  Curja smiled weakly.

  Rawlon touched his First Officer’s shoulder tenderly. “I joke. You have done well. Let me help you.”

  Wiping the displays several times with his sleeve, Rawlon began working the controls that were now visible. Seconds later, the charged hybrid weapon flashed on-line.

  Curja and Rawlon smiled at each other. The Admiral stepped back.

  “I give you the honor, my brave First Officer.”

  Curja smiled wider as he leaned slowly forward, his hand poised over the controls.

  Behind them the self-destruct sequence had dropped below ten seconds.

  “For the human race-our brethren,” Curja wheezed.

  Rawlon glanced at the main console. He read out loud. “Self-destruct in five, four, three, two...”

  Curja pressed the control for the hybrid weapon just as the final second

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  The battle was over.

  As far out as Minstrel’s sensors could sweep, there was only death and destruction.

  Inside its flowing, plasma body, Minstrel felt a great sadness; a feeling of such intense melancholy that Minstrel found it difficult to concentrate, to fly its spherical ship, even though for centuries this same ship had been Minstrel’s only home-every control, every console memorized long, long ago.

  Minstrel thought back, remembering the battle, fighting alongside the remnants of the Mewiis fleet in their last stand. Less than five percent of the original Mewiis fleet remained, all partially damaged. Only twenty-five warships could maneuver under their own power, a few others drifted intact but still registered active life support and precious life signs.

  That is where Minstrel had last been during the battle, occupied by the countless attacking T’kaan ships when the last two Great Horned ships had exploded almost simultaneously.

  Returning its thoughts to the present, Minstrel completed another wide scan search of the battlefield.

  Very few intact Kraaqi or Hrono ships remained, scattered here and there among the sea of debris. The only cluster of active ships Minstrel could pinpoint comprised the last remnants of the Hrono Home Fleet. Admiral Trakam led them now, the sole surviving commander in the field-all the others were gone.

  Worse, there were no signals from either Jaric or Kyle. Nor from Rok or any of his Band.

  Nor even Mother.

  As Minstrel stretched forth to control the ship and maneuver it among the seemingly endless debris field, a terrible weight worked against Minstrel’s very thoughts and actions - a terrible weight of intense sadness. Time and again the ship shuddered as debris collided with the weakened shields, Minstrel’s reactions once again too slow, its vision somehow blurred.

  Minstrel focused again on the surreal scene that stretched endlessly across the main viewscreen.

  In every direction, thousands of shattered hulls drifted; some still glowing from internal fires, most dark and silent. Some areas of destruction so thick with debris they even blocked out the stars beyond-broken shards of once mighty warships, now no more. It almost seemed that the entire galaxy had been littered by this one battle, the carnage and broken hulks so many.

  Thousands upon thousands of dead ships.

  Minstrel followed the path of the Kraaqi/Hrono charge; following the unimaginable trail of destruction. Sensors showed that the majority of dead ships were T’kaan.

  But there were so many broken Kraaqi ships-and Hrono, too. But no Mewiis ships in this section. Only at the left wing of the once proud battle line were there broken Mewiis warships and the few active ones that remained.

  The small remnant left of the Mewiis ships were now attempting rescue efforts, Minstrel noticed. There were many who had evacuated their shattered ships and now found themselves scattered among the drifting ocean of debris in rescue pods-waiting for rescue and the trip home.

  As Minstrel’s sensors discovered more rescue pods-Hrono and Kraaqi-it sent out their positions to the rescue ships. In turn, Minstrel communicated to the beings inside the rescue pods that their location was now identified and rescue was on the way, albeit slowly.

  So few survivors , Minstrel thought once again.

  Too many would not make the trip home today. They were gone along with their ships.

  “Minstrel, please report status of rescue operation.”

  Minstrel recognized the voice of Admiral Trakam in the comm signal that originated from the Hrono battleship.

  “I have found a few more survivors. I am turning my ship toward the glowing hull of the Great Horned ship of the First fleet. I will report back then.”

  “Thank you. And I have some good news,” Trakam added.

  Minstrel knew that at the point of the final attack, Trakam’s Home Fleet had been in close proximity with the last of Rawlon’s ships in his attack on the Great Horned ship of the Third fleet, the smallest of the Great Horned ships. He and his remaining ships were beginning their own rescue efforts starting from that far-off position, far from the last Mewiis ships.

  “Please elaborate.”

  “Tarlog has been found in a rescue pod. He’s injured. But he’ll live.”

  “Any word about Rawlon’s ship?”

  Silence.

  “Yes. Hull debris has been identified as that of the Thunderer, his flagship. It has just been confirmed by Zara, the acting First Captain for the Kraaqi aboard his battle cruiser, the Powerful. The Thunderer is no more, and no sign of any survivors among its officers.”

  Minstrel made a note to write a special song for Rawlon and to find out more details of his great attack.

  “How many Kraaqi ships have survived?” Minstrel asked.

  Silence again.

  “Twenty-seven. Including Zara’s ship and one other cruiser. The rest are fighters, and a couple of frigates.”

  Almost all gone. Minstrel’s thoughts were further burdened and subdued by the immense destruction that surrounded its own ship. It was as if the entire universe had been the battlefield. And in a way, it had been. For the eternal war of the T’kaan had finally ended.

  Still, Minstrel pressed on.

  “No word of the humans-or the MotherShip?” Trakam asked again, already knowing the answer.

  Jaric and Kyle’s fighters had been in the group attacking the Great Horned ship of the T’kaan First Fleet. Minstrel’s wide area scans had shown no active ships, no communication signals of any kind from that area, at least from this range.

  “None,” Minstrel said.

  The seconds and minutes stretch
ed for an eternity. Minstrel’s sensor sweeps reached to the edge of its capability, but still no life-signs.

  There were also no signs of life pods. Hope was growing dim...

  Suddenly, a light began pulsating. Minstrel worked feverishly, locking onto that weak beacon. That faint, scrambled signal slowly became discernible, and finally became a comm signal.

  Minstrel hurriedly fixed on the weak signal, amplifying it, holding it, caressing it until it grew intelligible.

  “This is Jaric. Repeat, we are in need of assistance. Our systems are down except for life-support. We are drifting. Repeat, this is Jaric...”

  Minstrel’s engines surged and the Circle Ship, scored and damaged, leapt forward.

  In minutes, the darkened fighter appeared amid the dense, swirling pieces of floating debris that surrounded it. Targeting the tractor beam on the damaged fighter, Minstrel began pulling Jaric and his damaged ship inside.

  Before the next hour had passed, a dozen other fighters were rescued in the same fashion; all that had survived the vicious explosion of the Great Horned ship of the T’kaan First.

  Kyle and Rok were among them-battered, bruised and bloodied.

  But alive.

  Jaric stumbled into the main room. “Where’s Mother?”

  “I have not ascertained her last position,” Minstrel reported.

  Jaric clenched his eyes shut as he searched his memory. “She was inside the T’kaan ship.” He opened them. “Did she get out?”

  “I do not know,” Minstrel said.

  With a sudden burst of energy, Jaric ran over and sat at Minstrel’s main console as he began working the controls feverishly. Across their customary comm channels, he sent a message for Mother. If she were listening-if she could listen-she would hear it.

  “Try your sensors across this sector,” Jaric ordered.

  Minstrel complied.

  But no ship registered. At least not one still functioning.

  A limping Kyle suddenly appeared next to Jaric.

  “Anything?”

  Jaric shook his head and kept working.

  “Let me try.” Kyle sat down at the console. He stared at the controls, thinking. Closing his eyes, his mind went back to the last moments before the final explosion. He concentrated.