"When are you planning to leave?"
"I guess it depends on what you have to tell me. I..."
They were both interrupted by McClary yelling at him through the environmental seal, an anxious look on the Scott’s face. "Are we going to see you again, Captain?"
"Yes," Ryan yelled back, "If you're lucky," he chuckled. McClary gave a wide smile and a thumbs-up sign.
"The council wishes to discuss your trip."
"Already? I’ve been away less than a week."
"Remember Ryan, two days to you is relative, it has been three weeks for us."
Right, relativity, always a strange concept to grasp.
He gave the Dancing Queen one last look before stepping out. A weak plume of steam was still billowing out from her rear burners as they cooled. Swarms of Xeronian technicians were running in and out of her through the auxiliary airlock. He heard Gem address them sarcastically over the Par as his A.I. friend directed them on a number of different tasks.
He did not like leaving her.
"If you prefer, you may rest for a few hours before meeting with them."
“No, let’s get this over with.”
"We will need two to three hours for our technicians to check over your ship.”
“That’s alright, I need more time to dig through the slaver’s core. I found something that can lead to Aviore.”
Tsaurau decided to fill him in on some of the details. “We have had some distressing news from the Signus system."
"Signus? That is where Aviore was from."
"I assume you are ready for combat?"
"Yes. Why?"
Tsaurau remained evasive, "You'll see."
The council had already convened anticipating his arrival. Tseman welcomed them warmly. "Ryan, you have had your presence requested because of a dire matter. The information we have received through our remote probes indicate a massive organization of slave traders headed toward the Signus system. As you already know, Signus has recently fallen to the Xi-Empire. We expect this fleet will perform a collection run of close to five hundred thousand Signite citizens. We estimate their arrival at the Signite system to be imminent. As you can surmise, we require an immediate decision on your part."
"What is it that you want me to do?"
"Intercept this fleet and destroy it."
“At Signus? The full force of their attacking fleet is there. I won’t have a chance against that many.”
“We know they have migrated their forces to attack the multiple Signite colonies. Only a few residual guard vessels remain at Signus.”
"Exactly how many of them are there?"
"The exact count is unknown.”
“As long as I have a fighting chance, I guess.”
“We have discovered one other, possibly significant, fact. Our monitoring of their communications has revealed this slave fleet is led by a Xilozak named Zorlog."
Ryan felt something stir within him. Zorlog. He knew that name too well. He didn’t realize he was rubbing his scar.
Tseman had already sensed something from him. "So you know of this individual?" she asked.
"Yes, I know of him."
"Will you intercept these ships?"
"But I’ve just found a lead on where to find Aviore… the woman in my visions. I’m sure the trail will grow cold if I’m too late."
"I do understand what we ask of you," Tseman said gently. “She is but one life. Thousands more will be enslaved or killed if this fleet is not stopped."
"I know." Ryan took a long agonizing minute. "I'll intercept the fleet."
* * *
9. Into the Breach
T he Dancing Queen was ready. All systems checked over, all tests completed. A small group had stayed to see Ryan off, among them McClary and Alexandria. They looked a little better than the last time he had seen them.
"Will we see you again?" asked Alexandria.
Fear was in her eyes, an enduring, entrenched fear.
Would she ever see her home again?
He touched her cheek tenderly. "You're safe in this place. Probably safer here than anywhere else in the known galaxy, and you're not a slave anymore."
She smiled back, eyes wet with tears.
McClary stuck out his hand. "May I shake the hand of a truly brave lad," he stated with an earnest smile on his face.
Ryan took his hand, smiling at the Scott, who managed a firm grip despite his condition.
"Good luck to you. You are doing good out there."
"McClary, maybe when you’re feeling better you'll consider helping me out."
"I'm as fit as a fiddle now, my boy. Consider me volunteered. I'll help you bring down these devils." He stood straight as a rail and saluted, but only briefly as a gut-wrenching cough ripped through his body.
Ryan glanced over to Tsaurau, who motioned, via the Par, to a nearby doctor.
"First things first, McClary. A sick man makes a poor soldier. But don't worry, I'll be back to take you up on that offer. You can count on it."
* * *
The Dancing Queen was on her way within minutes, course inlaid for Signus. Expected arrival at the system was about two weeks, approximately the same time the Xi-Empire fleet was scheduled to arrive. It would be close. Ryan was pushing the remnants of his good luck, and the ship, to the limit. Traveling through Xi-Empire controlled space required more than a cautious approach, but there simply wasn't time. The possibility of being discovered was high.
He knew, in retrospect, that was the least of his worries. What awaited him on arrival monopolized his apprehension. There would be more than slaverships to contend with. At least one military destroyer-class starship would be stationed there with unmistakable intentions - to ensure any and all threats were decimated in the usual thorough Xi-Empire fashion.
Could he do this? Would his ship hold together – hell would he hold together? He had to take the time to review a few key battle strategies from Taldig's lessons. Also, the logs from the old warship were barely dented. They were a maze of disjointed information, a collection of vector images and alien symbols, linked with Xeronian translations accompanying captions and footnotes.
After a few intense hours of research, he found his mind wandering, possibly due to anxiety or mental fatigue. Whatever the cause, his thoughts always seemed to follow down that same, twisted, pain ridden-path of never finding Aviore, or worse, finding her too late. His mind tortured itself with that awful game of self-directed anguish. Like a nightmare out of control, he conjured images so horrible it made him shudder. He could play out scenarios in infinite detail. It plagued him like an ulcer, eating away at him with no remorse.
Enough. Was he going crazy?
He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his temples. It would be so easy to change course, head toward Xilo and locate that ship. But at what cost? This was not a single slaver raid. This was an empirically funded mass abduction. There was not just hundreds or even thousands, but hundreds of thousands of lives at stake. To betray the innocent would be the ultimate sin.
Could he pay this price? It seemed unfathomable, and therefore, unreal. Could he live with himself after?
The question left a cold knot in his stomach that wrenched at his gut in sickening tugs.
No. No, he couldn't. That he knew. He had his duty.
Indifferent to its Captain's doubts, the Dancing Queen thundered on. Gem monitored her course and Ziggy kept active completing odd jobs. The robot would be an essential crew member during battle, along with the thousands of nano-bots that circulated throughout the ship – all creatures of mechanization living out their lives in focused, dutiful execution, making repairs as needed.
The monitor blipped at him. The requested archive file appeared onscreen.
"Gem, why is this archive of the Captain’s log so fragmented?"
"A significant portion of data was damaged. I have been working on reorganizing the affected files. I have been successful in reconstructing a number of related data logs
."
"Did you find out anything of interest?"
"Yes," Gem replied curtly. "The archives in question represent the personal log of Captain Grammul Dente-Ala-Pier. Entry log date 577 78:35:00 A.D. Duration: 22.5 seconds."
"Hmm. Sounds almost human. This A.D, does it stand for Anno Domini?"
"No, the acronym refers to a historically significant event that had occurred during the years of the Ancient Ones. I’ve not discovered any further definition.”
"So you have no idea?"
"Unknown, I have insufficient information. I will not even attempt a guess."
Ryan chuckled, "You? Make a guess?"
"Yes, a statistically probable conclusion. I can guess, just like you."
"But just not this, right? Anyway, pull the log up, I’d like to review it."
An image appeared, distorted and continually barraged by white noise like a bad analog TV signal during a thunderstorm. Within the frame stood a man, graying and distinguished looking, wearing a red uniform with a tunic neck. On his left breast were a number of medals, the distinction of a high-ranking officer with years of experience. Although the video revealed he was talking, the corresponding audio was scratchy and distorted, playing out in a choppy delayed fashion. The man’s voice presented a thickly accented foreign language. The playback lasted a full 22.5 seconds in duration before turning to white fuzz.
"Gem, this is… he’s human. I didn’t know Flukkens were human. Where did you say this log came from?"
"This recording came from the vessel ‘D’all Zermifacta-9502877’ or simply translated The War Spritzer - 91009D main library of the crew’s personnel logs, and you are mistaken. This life-form is not Flukken. His race is called... I am scanning available data. Please wait a moment." The pause stretched over minutes. Ryan drummed his fingers anxiously on the console. Finally, Gem came back from the recesses of her fractal world. "I am not able to find the official name of the Captain's race, in any context, however, I am convinced they are referred to by the Xeronians as the Ancient Ones."
"Are you sure?"
"I am."
"The Xeronians must have known this, why didn't they tell me?"
"I have not had sufficient time and opportunity to review all the available libraries in detail. I will state that of all the information I have researched, there are no physiological references provided describing the Ancient Ones. The information is unusually sparse in context."
"So they don’t know, you mean? If they did, why wouldn't they have told me?"
"I'm sorry, Captain, the facts are elusive."
"Are you continuing to reconstruct the damaged memory on this log entry?"
"Yes, it is an ongoing task. I am about 40% complete."
"Can you try to translate whatever he is saying and sharpen up the image?"
"That may be possible, but I will provide no guarantees."
"I'm satisfied with that."
“I can download all relevant archives to you through your vaskpar.”
Ryan scanned the total size of the logs before agreeing.
“Umm, OK Gem, but I can see this is going to take some time.”
* * *
Days passed into weeks. The ship passed by a number of vessels in the outer range of the scanners, but without any concern of engagement.
“We are now five hours from Signus,” Gem announced.
Ryan was jogging on his flex-motion machine but quickly stepped off, wiping the sweat dripping down his forehead. “Alright, bring all tracing scanners up to maximum range and ready the weapons systems. I’ll be in the pilot’s chair after my shower.”
The view from the pilot’s chair revealed little but the blurred image of stars. Nothing showed on the scanners. The ship’s navigations displays gave little clue of any major concerns.
Ryan doggedly returned to studying the battle logs. The dry research soon took its toll, and he fell asleep at the console. He awoke 30 minutes away from Signus barraged by persistent and piercing sirens. His drowsiness vanished as intense details flooded into his mind. The tracing sensors projected a holograph of the system above the cockpit’s instrumentation panels, superimposed over the brightly lit background of stars, which cut through the open quartz viewports with resolved clarity. The situation became clear quickly.
There were Xi-Empire destroyers and slaverships in orbit around the planet. The fleet had arrived early.
Ryan modified the course to bring the Dancing Queen behind the outermost planet of the Signus system. The sudden deceleration was intense, barely halting them in time. But they made it, and were drifting along, safely obscured behind the planet – their arrival hadn’t been noticed.
He ran the tracing scans, and his heart sank.
There were more ships than he anticipated: two destroyers, eight slaverships, all heavily armed. Three of the slaverships were in high orbit, which probably indicated they were already full of slaves. Shuttles were moving to and from the successive ship in line. He had expected a full stream of simultaneous shuttles between all the slavers but something, obviously, was hindering their progress. Possibly the task of rounding up their victims had proven more difficult than they had expected.
“Gem, I am not sure about this. Timing is critical and we will have hit all of them simultaneously. And our missiles cannot be dispatched this far out.”
He pulled up multiple tactical views. The three slaverships needed to be intercepted at the same time the destroyers were disabled or they’d scatter in all directions.
There had to be some way to pull this off.
Since the Signites were giving them some grief, they probably have many troops on the surface, and most likely running sparse crews on those destroyers. That could work to his advantage, but he had to get in closer without being detected.
He pulled up a full inner system display. Signus was one of five planets within a single sun system. The system had its share of moons, asteroids, and comets - enough to provide some level of camouflage. There were ghost images on the edge of the tracing image, fuzzy shapes, probably space debris or tracing noise, but nothing that would warrant a closer inspection.
He scoured the holographic map, looking for something - anything that could work to his benefit.
If he could find something large enough to hide the Dancing Queen, close enough in range to launch an attack…
The solution presented itself quickly: a comet on a flyby no more than a stone’s throw away from Signus.
“OK, Gem, I think we can make this work. The ice tail should distort the Dancing Queen’s signature just enough. From there I should be able to launch missiles to hit the destroyers, and engage in direct fire to disable those three slavers.”
“We could initiate an acroluc jump directly into the tail. But this would be a challenging manoeuver,” offered Gem.
“Show me.”
Gem replayed the plan through the vaskpar. The Dancing Queen would slingshot around the sun but stay out of tracing range of the destroyers, then make a jump to acroluc and decelerate quickly enough to drop precisely within the tail without colliding into the comet. Undoubtedly, their tracing sensors were calibrated to catch any objects moving in on an approaching vector, so they just might miss this. Gem had already isolated the frequency of their tracing search pulse. If they timed it just after the sweep, there would be a large enough window to pull it off.
"The probability of successfully completing this maneuver is statistically low," Gem stated.
"Do you have any better ideas?"
"Not at this time."
"Then we go with the plan,” stated Ryan. “Besides, you can do it. You’re the most advanced… ah… control system the Xeronians ever created.”
“ConPar is the Xeronian term.”
“Alright then, I won’t call you a computer, I’ll call you a conPar, that make you happy?”
“My happiness is not relevant to this discussion.”
“Right. Well, we move at T-minus 60, so start the cou
ntdown." He communicated with Ziggy through the vaskpar. "Ziggy, prep the long-range missiles. Four of them."
"15..14.. Are you sure you want to do this?" inquired Gem.
"I thought you came from a warship," Ryan returned sarcastically.
"Very well. Be prepared for acceleration."
Ryan pulled the restraints tighter and patted the console. “You can do this, baby.”
“3..2..1.”
The ship lurched as the gluon burners flared to maximum. The gravitonic flux inverted them within the antimatter blanket and they jumped to acroluc. He fought the urge to grab the controls.
"Please, do not override my control, Captain," warned Gem.
"Yeah, I know, just get me there in one piece, Gem."
The Dancing Queen completed the loop around the sun, leveraging the star’s massive gravitation field to help swing it around.
"Approaching destination vector now. Deceleration in 2..3..1."
The anti-gravs whined as they tried to compensate the inertial forces within the ship. They were not completely successful, as Ryan was compressed so tightly against his restraints that he almost blacked out. It was all over in a matter of seconds.
He gratefully gulped in some air and checked the ship’s systems. The Dancing Queen had matched the speed of the comet perfectly and was positioned well within the cover of its tail. Ryan could see the icy dust floating over the ship's hull through the quartz viewport.
“Dropping to low energy emissions,” reported Gem. Multiple ship systems shut down or migrated to low energy levels throughout.
"Good job, Gem. Wasn’t that hard was it?"
"We have accomplished this contrary to statistical evaluation. We should have crashed."
“Have some faith in yourself. Let’s check on our enemy.”
Using a low power trace in order to avoid detection, he mustered up a visual tactical of the situation. Gem had to process the image a number of times to remove the distortion caused from the ice particles.
The three full slaverships were beginning to maneuver into trajectory alignment for departure, but the destroyers hadn't moved from orbit. There was no indication they had a clue about their arrival.
A Bellicose Dance Page 32