by Aer-ki Jyr
“Actually, there are four,” Morgan pointed out. “Your troops are securing another one presently.”
The Calavari blinked. “I was not informed of this. Where did you get another one?”
“We tracked down one that had fled, and through some serious naval strategy managed to clip its wings before it could run again. Your transports have been offloading prisoners for more than a day now.”
The Calavari snapped the fingers on his lower right hand and pointed one of his attendants away to fetch information, then bowed his head towards Morgan. “You do not disappoint, Archon. Might I ask what your personal kill count is at?”
“I don’t have an accurate number, but ammunition wise I’ve used up more than 10,000 rounds, so I’d say a few thousand at least. Can you tell me what’s going on or do we have to wait for the others?”
“The Hycre are already here,” he said, pointing to a chamber with the windows obscured for privacy reasons. “The Kvash will be along shortly. It seems we heated their chamber too hot for their liking and it will take some time to cool. Our techs built it yesterday and including ample heating elements, but no cooling units…thus we’re having to let the thermals bleed off gradually.”
“Why not pull an atmospheric purge?”
“We have, it is the framework that is retaining the heat.”
“And the other chamber?”
The opaqueness of the Hycre window disappeared and the floating, mohawk-headed gasbags came into view, speaking through a computerized translator.
A GUEST WITH VALUABLE INFORMATION
“What race?” Morgan asked bluntly.
NUMERION
“You wouldn’t know them,” the Calavari answered before she could ask the question. “Neither do we, but they have knowledge of the Nestafar.”
“What kind of knowledge?”
WE SHARE SEVERAL WORLDS WITH THEM, a different computerized voice said as an individual moved up to the window of the other compartment.
Or more accurately, swam.
“Son of a bitch,” Morgan said, walking around the holoprojector and up to the window to get a better look, staring into the glowing eyes of a mermaid.
“What is wrong?” the Calavari asked, alarmed at Morgan’s sudden change in demeanor.
Morgan pointed at the window of the fish tank. “You and I need to have a talk…in private.”
CONCERNING WHAT MATTER?
Morgan shook her helmeted head. “In private only.”
The Calavari walked up behind Morgan, curious but respectful. “The adjacent chamber can be sealed off and a direct line of communication can be established between the two.”
“Secure or monitored?”
“Secured internally. You choose the access from inside. The controls are labeled in the trade language.”
“Are we still waiting on the Kvash?”
The lead Calavari glanced back at one of his subordinates and got a gestured response. “Yes, you have time.”
“Good,” Morgan said, a bit huffy. “Stand guard,” she told the Knight as she stepped into the empty chamber and sealed the clear door. Inside, the wall next to the tank became transparent while the outer one went opaque, shielding the other races from viewing the mermaid.
Morgan played around with the controls on her end, finally getting the front wall/door to likewise black out and the comm channel set to only transmit between the two chambers.
WHAT RACE ARE YOU?
“Human…but you may have an unpleasant reaction when I take my helmet off. I promise you we are not your enemy, Elarioni.”
The mermaid visibly squirmed, her green hair jumping up in front of her face as she jerked backwards. HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT NAME?
“You are hiding, I know, which was why I did not want to reveal your secret to the others. I have met one of your kind. She now lives with my people and is teaching us many things about underwater habitats and combat. We call her Ariel, and we rescued her from the Cajdital. They had claimed her as a trophy and kept her captive aboard one of their ships.”
The Elarioni swam close to the window separating air from water. WHY DO YOU CAUTION ME TO SEEING YOUR FACE? WHO ARE YOU?
In answer, Morgan unsealed and removed her helmet…but the Elarioni didn’t so much as blink.
I DO NOT KNOW YOUR RACE.
“I assume you remember the V’kit’no’sat?”
Again, she jerked…and this time Morgan could see panic in her eyes.
The Archon held up a calming hand. “Relax. They are our enemy as well, and we are also hiding from them. Our world was originally one of their colonies, abandoned during a civil war. My ancestors were left behind. We were their slaves, and if they should find us again they will kill us all, same as they will your kind. Our allies do not know of this, nor do they know of the V’kit’no’sat. We believe they have pulled back closer to the galactic core, but we do not know exactly where they are. And we know better than to hope that they have somehow been destroyed.”
The Elarioni slowly floated back towards the glass.
I KNOW OF THE V’KIT’NO’SAT ONLY FROM STORIES. THEY ARE THE REASON WE HAVE TAKEN ANOTHER NAME. OUR SISTER WITH YOU, FROM WHAT WORLD DID SHE COME?
“I do not recall the name, nor would it probably mean anything to you. She told us the Elarioni survivors split up as they were running, hoping that at least one group would escape the V’kit’no’sat pursuit. They did, but the Cajdital assaulted their world. Past that point she had no memory.”
WILL YOU RETURN HER TO US?
“As valuable as she has become to us, yes, we will. But our territory is far from here, and the Hycre had to transport my fleet in order for us to arrive soon enough to make a difference. If you live in Nestafar territory I think we will have problems, but we will try to work something out. But while we’re on the subject, how do you and the Nestafar coexist?”
WE ARE WATER DWELLERS. THEY ARE AIR DWELLERS. WE SHARE A FEW WORLDS BUT WE DO NOT INTERACT. THEY DO NOT HAVE THE POWER TO DESTROY US SO THEY LEAVE US ALONE. WE TOLERATE THEM BECAUSE THEIR PRESENCE HIDES OURS. WE ARE GHOSTS ON THEIR WORLD AND SAFE FROM PRYING EYES.
“Why are you here?”
YOUR ARIEL IS NOT THE ONLY SISTER THAT HAS BEEN FOUND. WE KNOW THE CAJDITAL KILLED MANY OF THEM. THE NESTAFAR HAVE ALLIED WITH THE CAJDITAL. THIS WE CANNOT TOLERATE. WE WANT THE NESTAFAR GONE FROM OUR WORLDS BUT WE DO NOT HAVE THE MEANS TO EVICT THEM. YOU DO.
“What kind of intelligence you do have pertaining to this system? I got the impression that there was something urgent.”
WE MONITOR THEIR MOVEMENTS ON THE WORLDS WE HOLD. WE ALSO MONITOR THEIR PRIMITIVE TECHNOLOGY. WE KNOW THEIR PLANS. THEY ARE SENDING NEW FLEETS TO TAKE MANY SYSTEMS. THIS IS BUT ONE. ONE THAT THEY BELIEVE THEY HAVE TO TAKE THUS IT IS IMPERATIVE THAT THEY DO NOT. THEIR BATTLE PLANS FOR 39 STAR SYSTEMS CENTER HERE. DENY THEM THIS SYSTEM AND YOU DENY THEM THE SURROUNDING TERRITORY.
“I think I understand now,” Morgan said, putting her helmet back on. “Your secret is safe with us. I trust ours is safe with you?”
WE HAVE A MUTUAL ENEMY. IF THEY ARE IN THE CORE AS YOU SAY BRINGING THEM OUT TO DESTROY YOU WILL LIKEWISE INCREASE THE ODDS OF THEM DISCOVERING US.
“Not quite the heartfelt assurance I was looking for, but I’ll take it,” Morgan said sarcastically. “How long until this system is reinforced?”
I WAS SURPRISED THE HYCRE GOT ME HERE BEFOREHAND.
“Wonderful,” Morgan said, very much wanting to be back up on her ship.
I WILL ASSIST YOU WITH THE DEFENSE OF THIS SYSTEM.
“How?”
WE HAVE ACCESS TO THEIR TECHNOLOGY, the Elarioni reminded her.
8
Captain Wilkinson was waiting for her again in the hangar bay when her dropship arrived back onboard the Red Ranger, but this time their conversation was brief.
“Recall the O’Neill and Optimus Prime and have all four warships prepare for redeployment. We’re going after the Nestafar fleet before they can get reinforcements, wh
ich according to intel suggests any day now. Coordinate with the Hycre, we’re using their battle plan. Alert me if the fireworks start before I get to the bridge, I’m going to be off the grid for a while,” she said, walking abnormally fast. So fast that Wilkinson had to jog to keep up, and he noted that she hadn’t removed her helmet.
“Is something wrong?”
“In a hurry. Don’t let me hold you up.”
Wilkinson understood the dismissal, but not the cause for it, so he let her go and headed back up to the bridge to get their fleet reorganized as she headed over to the sanctum at a brisk walk that turned into a slow run halfway there. When she started having to dodge crew in the hallways she just said to hell with it and took off as fast as she could manage and hoping the physical activity would help.
By the time she got to the sanctum doors she already had her right arm piece removed and smacked her palm down on the scanner, impatiently waiting for it to identify her and unlock the door as she used all her willpower to keep herself contained. When the doors finally parted she tossed the armor piece inside and started disconnecting the rest as quickly as she could.
The sanctum doors closed and locked behind her, with a trail of green armor segments leading further inside and over to one of the sparring chambers. There her casual uniform, shoes, socks, and underwear followed leading up to the center of the circular padded chamber where Morgan dropped to her knees and finally let go the energy that had been slowly building inside her for the past three hours.
It came out in spurts, sending random waves out from different parts of her body and sending the air within the chamber into a chaotic whirlwind. Her clothes jumped off the ground and were kicked around, part of which flew back out the sparring chamber’s door while her shoes rolled over a couple of times, too heavy to be lifted up by the moving air.
The cascade of energy releases took 12 seconds to work their way out of Morgan’s body, then left her feeling deflated and overly relieved as she sagged to the ground, crying silent tears from the effort. Her body felt raw, as if the energy had caused damage on the way out. She made a mental note not to let it build to such levels again, meaning, unfortunately, that she was going to have to remain in or near the sanctum until she got a handle on this.
The Archon glanced down at her naked body, wondering why she’d taken her clothes off…or for that matter her armor. She didn’t have a good reason, but somehow felt it was appropriate, like the layers would have interfered with the process…though she didn’t know if that was a product of her imagination or not.
Then again, it might have ripped her clothes off anyway. So at least she had them to put back on…if she could find them.
Morgan got to her feet, then feeling so dizzy she almost passed out, just told herself to forget it and sat back down, sinking an inch or so into the padded floor as she felt a rush of ambrosia fatigue wash over her, confirming in her mind the fact that whatever this energy was it fed off her ambrosia very quickly. She’d been down on the planet for the better part of a day, but her ambrosia levels shouldn’t have been below half by the time she got back…and it felt like the little mystery nodules in her body had just sucked up what was left in her bloodstream.
“Uh,” she said, laying back and staring up at the ceiling feeling like she’d just finished a hard workout. “Wonderful timing. I’ve got the largest naval battle we’ve seen to date to lead and I’m stuck with a malfunctioning body. Can’t do this when they need me…so what are my options?” she asked, thinking out loud as her head swirled with a mixture of familiar and new sensations, all of which were fatigue related.
“Control it, or bleed it out…but I don’t know when the Nestafar are coming to bleed it out, unless I can do it quickly when the time comes. No, check that. I need a clear head and this won’t do. I have to get this under control.”
Morgan rubbed her forehead, part of her just wanting to go to sleep.
“Focus, girl…and sit up,” she told herself, crunching her abs and heaving her head up off the mat uncomfortably.
“Wibbly wobbly timey whimey,” she said with a laugh, surprised by how much that exertion had taken out of her. Even on her most extreme workouts she didn’t get this dizzy.
“Ambrosia,” she said, finding the need to vocalize her thoughts, otherwise they’d be lost in the maelstrom of numbing sensations swirling through her mind. “Walk.”
As if coaching herself through the next few minutes, Morgan focused on the simple task of getting her feet underneath her and standing. With a pounding headache that nearly unbalanced her she walked a few steps over towards the door and stopped, looking at the ceiling to try and let a wave of nausea pass. When it had partially settled she walked a few steps more and found her shoes.
She considered putting them on, but the idea of bending over got her mind calculating the possibilities of her retaining her balance and she decided the odds weren’t too good of that so she just walked around her shoes, taking very tiny steps out of the sparring chamber. She stopped several times, but eventually made her way through the empty sanctum to the kitchen where she pulled open several cabinets and began dragging out various items and setting them on a nearby table one at a time.
After making several trips back and forth she sat her nude butt down on the chair and cradled her head in her hands for a moment, desperately wanting to drift off into a comatose, pain-racked sleep. She held her head for more than five minutes before she woke herself, thinking it had only been a few seconds. Forcing herself into action she opened a water bottle and sucked down half of it before she even realized how thirsty she was.
“Ambrosia,” she reminded herself, pulling one of a stack of wafers out and chewing it slowly. She washed it down with a bit of water and started on another, slowly making her way through the entire stack.
Within 60 seconds of eating the first she began to feel her head clear ever so slightly, and with each additional wafer she ingested her head cleared more and more, so much so that it shocked her.
“Damn it, this…power does feed off ambrosia. And food,” she added, feeling her stomach rumble. Whatever those little nodules were, they definitely required a lot of fuel…fortunately Archons didn’t have trouble sucking down the calories when needed. After getting a bit of her balance back from the wafers Morgan got up and fixed herself a heaping plate of foodstuffs, all carb-heavy, ranging from breadsticks to noodles to cookies, all of which were premade or quick fix meals, though some did have to be quick cooked in the flash oven, such as the noodles.
Five minutes later she sat down and began to chow down, along with sucking in a couple liters of water. When she finished her head had cleared up for the most part, though she did still feel drained.
Morgan stood up experimentally, finding that her legs felt almost…strong. Wary of making her headache worse, Morgan cringed and jumped in place, rising up more than 2 feet before landing back down on the balls of her feet lithely.
“Ok, so I’ve got strength. It was just my control that was lacking?” she asked herself, trying to puzzle this out. “Two separate bodily functions, both routed through my brain. One gets fatigued and zaps my head, interfering with the other. My head clears, then I’m free to…train normally?” she wondered.
Morgan belched, suddenly remembering how much food she had in her stomach.
“Just a mile then,” she told herself. “Now, where are my clothes?”
A day later the Red Ranger and her three twin warships jumped out from Sri’ka in towards the system’s central star, abandoning their stewardship of planetary orbit with their drone warships tucked safely inside their racks. There they waited for several hours, falling lazily towards the star in the inner zone of the system until they received a signal from the Hycre, telling them it was time to make their entrance, along with a preferred deceleration zone.
“Let’s go,” Morgan said to herself, standing in the command nexus as she ordered all four ships to make the microjump. One by one they blinked out
of view heading for Ra’sa, the 4th planet, and the enemy fleet stationed there. Minutes later, when the Star Force strikeforce decelerated at the point the Hycre had requested, Morgan’s tracking data showed the fish-like Hycre warships darting in and out of a huge formation of Nestafar warships, more than 400 strong, surrounding the damaged command ship.
Those 400 were split, with a main group engaging a Kvash fleet. One of their battleships and seven other smaller, yet still huge vessels were slugging it out with the Nestafar as they moved around orbit, having jumped to the 4th planet from another in the system. On the opposite side there was a small cluster of Hycre warships, much smaller in size but stronger in bite, taking on a cluster of heavy Nestafar capitol ships. Both conflicts had stretched out the Nestafar formation, leaving the command ship and about a quarter of its escorts situated in between guarding the primary jump line to the planet.
Like the third point on a triangle, Morgan’s fleet came in along that jumpline and immediately began unpacking its warships. As they did the Nestafar dispatched most of the command ship’s escorts towards them while the roving Hycre destroyers and frigates zipped in and out, hitting them on the flanks and harassing the command ship, forcing some of the Nestafar warships to stay behind to protect it.
As planned, some of the Hycre warships were zipping around the command ship in very tight, synchronized orbits, keeping their masses in the way of the ship to discourage it from jumping out…though it might not have even been necessary. As Morgan’s data on the enemy updated further she saw huge chunks of the command ship missing from the hull where it had rammed her ships previously. Apparently the Nestafar had managed to extrude the Star Force wreckage, leaving the huge ship looking half dead.
But only half…weaponsfire was still showing from its hull, though not any of the primary weapons which Morgan was sure they’d thoroughly trashed.
The Kvash were thoroughly bottled up, but their drift rate was still bringing them closer to the command ship. That was the faint, at least, because they weren’t here for it. Taking it out fell to Star Force. The Kvash were targeting the Nestafar battleships, including a dreadnaught that was leading their segment of the battle. Taking out the larger ships was key to the battle plan, and while the Hycre were certainly capable of taking them down with numbers, their fleet of mostly smaller ships couldn’t stand toe to toe with the cluster of heavy capitol ships…whereas the Kvash with their greater size and stronger shields could.