by Caleb Selby
Only a moment passed before Darion placed a hand on Zane’s shoulder. “If you’re looking for something to do, we could use another hand,” he said and then turned to follow after Reesa who had already taking the lead down the tunnel.
Zane took an uneasy step after Darion and then paused, unsure of what to do.
“We may all die,” the voice of Professor Jabel said as he too followed after Darion, his cane preceding each step. “There is no shame if you do not want to accompany us. Ours is a fight impossible to explain with the limited time we have available. If you chose to find your former company or make your way back to the bunkers, there will be no shame or resentment from us,” Jabel finished and followed quickly after Darion and Reesa.
Zane paused for another moment. “Would an extra lydeg make a difference?” he called out, holding up his weapon.
The Professor turned and looked at Zane intently. “It very well may,” he said intently and then turned away without offering another compelling word.
There was no more delay. Zane gripped his heavy lydeg all the tighter and followed after.
The B-18 sped in and around the debris of the battlefield, dodging the twisted and contorted frames of once mighty Krohn warships as it rapidly approached its destination. Three Idok fighters followed in close pursuit. The small convoy was just rounding the other side of the planet when the moon came into view. It was a striking sight, the red fire of the churning lava rivers contrasted against the blackness of space.
Carter lost himself in the moon’s enchanting allure for just a moment before a warning light began to blink at one of the control panels. Carter glanced at the light and then at a nearby monitor. He quickly tapped a few buttons overhead. The monitor zoomed up on the moon, its bright red rivers interrupted by hundreds of tiny imperfections on the screen. Carter promptly re-calibrated the monitor and looked again, only to see the image was still corrupted. He magnified the view, this time directly at one of the imperfections. What he saw took his breath away.
On the screen was a war ship unlike any Carter had ever seen before. It was something entirely unique, menacing and huge! It was at least three times longer than the Idok, the longest ship in the fleet by far and twice as tall! It portrayed unimaginable power in every hull plate and rivet. Yet the more Carter studied the massive form, the less and less it resembled a ship and the more it looked like a monstrous, floating city. The huge towers, turrets, transmitters, scanners, receiving dishes and other gigantic, foreign instruments protruding out over the entire surface indeed portrayed a typical city skyline.
Carter swallowed hard and loosened up the focus on the optical scanner. At least thirty more identical ships came into view. He brushed sweat off his forehead and zoomed out again only to see more. Not knowing yet what to do, he realigned his scanner and ran a broad-spectrum sweep. Over and over Carter did this, half wondering if he was in the middle of a nightmare or some sort of a twisted reality. The transmitter in the cockpit crackled to life, confirming that this was indeed reality.
“B-18 flight leader this is fighter Eta-two, flying off your starboard. Do you copy?”
“This is flight leader,” replied Carter. “I copy you Eta-two. Go ahead.”
“Have you scanned the moon yet?” the pilot asked.
“Just finished,” answered Carter drearily. “It doesn’t look pretty.”
“What are they?” the fighter pilot asked in bewilderment. “Cities? Ships? Both?”
“I have no clue,” Carter replied. “I’ve never seen anything like them.”
“My computer estimates over six-hundred,” another pilot chimed in, his voice resonating with disbelief. “Six hundred and climbing!”
“I got seven hundred and the number keeps growing,” replied Carter.
“Do you think they are Unmentionables?”
“Has to be,” replied Carter. “We knew they had a fleet but I had no idea it was this massive! I don’t think anyone knew!”
“What are we going to do?”
“We need to warn the fleet,” Carter answered firmly.
“Do you want to go?” the pilot asked.
“No,” Carter said quickly. “We’ll stay here and monitor their activity. You three go. As soon as you are out of their jamming frequency range, tell the Admiral what’s over here. I’ve just finished uploading a video file of the ships to your cortex. Send it to him.”
“But, Sir…” the pilot protested, concerned for the shuttle’s occupants.
“But nothing!” snapped Carter. “You guys are faster than my ship and Fedrin needs the info. We’ll keep tabs on them. Now go!”
“Copy that,” the other pilot said without further protest. “Good luck!”
A moment later in near unison, the three fighters punched their main thrusters and left the loan B-18 to fend for herself against the greatest armada ever assembled.
The President slowly turned the thin codex pages, with each turn marveling at the ingenuity and unabashed liberty taken by the Sions so many years ago; to destroy an entire world just to keep the Grimsin tree out of the hands of the Unmentionables? It was preposterous, almost laughable, in its absurdity and heavy handiness. Truly, who were the greater foes of the Namuh people? The Sions or the Unmentionables?
As he closed the last page he looked up an beheld his escape, his deliverance, destined to bring him to the Grimsin and the exalted state of existence and near limitless power he longed for. He smiled. The irony was overwhelming. A weapon designed to keep the people of Namuh Prime safe would be the vehicle for their downfall and eventual extermination.
“The primary thrusters have been realigned,” a greasy mechanic with a large belly, said after wiping sweat from his forehead. “You should be able to load up whenever you’d like, Mr. President.”
Defuria slowly nodded, repulsed by the sight and odor of the mechanic and longing for a time when he would no longer be forced to keep their company.
“If I may ask, Mr. President,” the man began speaking again, much to Defuria’s lament. “The boys and I are curious what this is all about. Are you planning on leaving us or something?”
“Yes,” was the prompt and cold reply. “I don’t want to be here when the Krohns feed on your thrashing bodies. I think it would very likely make me sick.”
The mechanic absorbed the abrupt answer with a momentary, contemplative silence, wondering if it was his place to say anything at all. “Don’t you think your place would be better served here, with your people?” He spoke reluctantly, but was glad he said it.
Defuria turned sharply and glared at the greasy mechanic. As he looked, his own eyes flashed with a burning intensity that seemed to absorb all the warmth in the room and caused all the gathered workers to momentarily hold their arms and shiver.
“I do what I will when I will,” Defuria spoke in a deep, menacing voice, his words seemingly eradicating all memory of joy and love by the gathered men. The room grew colder and colder as he spoke. “Soon I will be your god and you will beg your petitions upon me...and I will refuse all. I will watch your world burn in fire and then freeze in ice. I will resurrect those I wish only to kill again. I will create new life and let it flourish for a season but only to watch it die, desperately clinging to the memory of warmth that once sustained it. I will be the same Yova we all know and love so well; cruel, unloving, uncaring, and demented! Yet I will not torment my minions with hopes of salvation and redemption as Yova does! I will give damnation freely to all! This is my promise! This is my pledge!”
As he finished speaking, he looked up and realized that all the workers gathered around were dead...frozen to death by his words of evil and utter despair.
“We’re ready!” a voice spoke up from the tunnel’s entrance. “We but await your command.”
Defuria turned sharply and upon spotting the Sentinel, smiled and nodded. “Do you have enough chil
dren for all?” he asked. “We must satiate our hunger for the final stage.”
The Sentinel nodded. “We have procured a sufficient quantity to sustain us until we get the Grimsin. Their innocent purity will be a superior substitute compared to the sin stained rabble we have been forced to feed upon since the Grimsin depletion!”
“Patience,” Defuria admonished with a raised hand. “You will soon be bathing in Grimsin. Now summon the rest of our brethren. There is no more time to waste!”
The Sentinel bowed and quickly left the room leaving Defuria and his host of frozen statues alone. The president stepped nearer and took hold of the dead mechanic’s arm he had spoken with and effortlessly broke it off at the elbow. “Care to lend a hand?” he asked, his voice resonating on the empty silo walls followed by a fit of vile laughter.
Fedrin watched Captain Carter’s recording of the hundreds of ships orbiting the moon for the third time. He shook his head slowly.
“It’s not fair,” Commander Kendrick said over the transmission screen. “It’s just not fair.”
“I thought you said they had thirty or forty ships en route!” Colby exclaimed. “But this? This is hopeless! This is beyond hopeless. Even considering challenging them is pointless suicide!”
“Are we sure this isn’t some sort of illusion or tactical trick?” Kesler inquired. “After all, we’ve been broadcasting fake Sion fleet chatter to make us look stronger then we are. Maybe they are doing something similar?”
Fedrin nodded. “Carter confirmed that the ships were legitimate by running random signal origin checks on over a dozen ships. They’re real.”
“So...what are we going to do then?” pressed Kendrick. “Like Colby said, we won’t last more than five minutes against that!”
“Five minutes would be generous,” Kesler added.
Fedrin sat back in his chair and rubbed his chin. “The entire Sion race has sacrificed themselves just to give us the chance to find this Tree and meet our destiny, whatever that may mean. I cannot ignore their sacrifice, regardless of the perils that lay ahead.” He paused. “However, seeing as how this mission does seem impossible by our standards, I will not order any of your vessels to accompany me. I am fully prepared to have the Iovara’s crew abandon ship leaving me to pilot it through their fleet alone.”
“Over our dead and grossly mutilated bodies!” Tarkin yelled into the transmitter from behind Kesler.
“That’s essentially our sentiment here too,” Kendrick said with a chuckle at the Branci’s phrasing. “I’m not too crazy about the plan, but we’ve tagged along with you this far, Admiral. We’re not going to back down now.”
Colby nodded. “Just give the word, Admiral. The Arbitrator is yours to command!”
“And don’t you think for one second that your crew is leaving you!” Jonas shouted down from his station. “Even if they had ten thousand ships, I’d man my post till the end!”
“That goes for me as well,” Etana said walking up beside her husband. “I’m not going anywhere!”
Fedrin nodded. “I do appreciate your tenacity, but I fear I don’t have a plan good enough to justify all of our deaths for nothing more than duty and patriotism.”
“Perhaps I can offer one?” Vice Chancellor Merik said, a hologram transmission of himself suddenly appearing on the Iovara’s bridge.
“Please share,” Fedrin said, nodding to the transmission.
“There is no way that you can defeat the Unmentionable Armada with your fleet,” Merik began. “If time were on our side, we might come up with some clever plan to exploit their weakness and maximize our strengths. However, time is not on our side.”
“How do you mean?” Kesler asked. “What’s to stop us from waiting on the outskirts of their forces and waiting for an opportunity to present itself?”
Merik nodded toward the transmission screen. “President Defuria has learned the location of the Grimsin Tree and is making plans to get to it. We cannot let this happen. We must act now!”
“You mentioned you have a plan?” Commander Colby asked.
Merik nodded slowly. “Victory can still be achieved by getting but one of you to the moon before Defuria or any of the other Unmentionables.”
“Even with full thrusters and the willingness to sacrifice everything, our ships won’t be able to penetrate their perimeter,” commented Fedrin, nodding toward the images of the Unmentionable fleet. “We won’t have a chance!”
“My ships will offer you that chance, Admiral,” said Merik grimly.
Commander Kendrick looked at Merik skeptically. “How can you do that?”
“My three ships will funnel our collective power generation abilities together to create an energy field barrier. This barrier will function to augment your ship’s normal shielding capacity a thousand fold,” Merik answered. “This will accordingly allow your ships to sustain attacks from their weapons for an extended period of time and hopefully allow you to penetrate through their ranks to reach the moon before Defuria.”
“But if you give all of your energy to help our ships, won’t your vessels be vulnerable?” Commodore Kesler questioned.
Merik nodded. “Our deaths are inevitable, Commodore. But all of our deaths will be made worth while if but one of you reaches the garden and the Grimsin Tree. We are prepared to finish what we have begun. We are prepared to die for the cause.”
Fedrin thought for a moment, carefully considering what Merik and his commanders had said. “Very well,” he finally said with authority. “If your crews are truly willing to make this sacrifice, the least we could do is match your heroism by taking you up on it. We’re in!”
Merik nodded. “I’ll let my fellow Commanders know what we’ve decided. And may Yova be with us all,” said Merik and then vanished from the room.
“I guess this is it then,” Kesler said looking at the faces of the remaining Sixth Fleet commanders.
“Guess so, Commodore,” Kendrick said and then smiled. “You and that Branci ready for the fight of your lives?”
“They don’t stand a chance!” Tarkin called out from behind Kesler.
Kendrick chuckled.
“Commander Etana, get the ships into formation,” ordered Fedrin. “I want to move as one body through the enemy fleet. The tighter and cleaner our formation, the harder it will be for the Unmentionable ships on the outer perimeter to lock on to us. Hopefully that will mitigate their overwhelming numbers.”
“Aye, Sir!” Etana answered promptly.
“Jonas, stop all deployments of troops and equipment to the planet. Whatever has been sent will have to work for now.”
“Troop deployment finished up five minutes ago,” Jonas answered.
“Excellent,” Fedrin said with a nod. “That was quick work. Well done!”
Jonas shook his head. “Actually, it was quick work because there weren’t that many to deploy. Everyone we could spare was sent down but there just weren’t that many. A few companies at most.”
Fedrin shook his head woefully and then sighed. “Its the best we can do and that’s the way it will have to be for now.”
“Aye Sir,” Jonas answered, hoping that they weren’t sending their vastly outnumbered forces into a death trap.
“Maintain communication with our landing forces and offer all logistical information we can possibly provide,” Fedrin ordered. “They’ll need all the help we can give them.”
“I’m on it,” replied Jonas as he turned back to his station.
“Ensign Gallo,” Fedrin then said, turning toward the communication officer’s station.
“Sir?”
“Set up dedicated tele-link lines with all ships including the Sions,” Fedrin said. “Clear and speedy communication is going to be very important during this maneuver.”
“No problem,” Gallo replied.
Fedrin sat back in
his chair; stern faced, and stared out of the ship’s main window. An enemy that dwarfed anything his childhood imagination could have conjured both in strength and diabolical intent, was on the other side of his world waiting for him. He wondered what special plans they were preparing. Would they overwhelm his best efforts in mere moments with an onslaught of amazing weaponry? Would his ships prevail against all odds, reach the moon and set all right? Who would die to accomplish this? So many questions arose and as always, no answers followed.
This was the type of moment that made the humble and at times, insecure man like Fedrin, the Chief Admiral he was. This was the type of moment a man like Commander Mick would have imploded upon himself trying to reconcile. This type of moment was why Fedrin had been born. This type of moment is why Yova had carefully guided his steps to this time and this place. It was Fedrin’s moment. Deep down Fedrin knew all this, yet he was still terrified with what he was about to do.
“Fedrin,” Etana spoke up.
Fedrin looked up. “Etana?”
“We might not survive this,” she said bluntly.
Fedrin nodded. “That is a distinct possibility,” he conceded, unwilling to sugarcoat the impending turmoil.
Etana stammered. “Well, I thought I’d just say that I love you, while I have a chance. Goodness knows we won’t have time to talk later.”
“I love you, too,” Fedrin said, smiling tenderly. He stood to his feet and held out his arms. “Thank you for all you have done for me and for the Federation. I owe you everything I am and so much more.”
Tears filled Etana’s eyes. “Same here,” she said, embracing him tightly. “If I had it all to do over again, I’d still do what I’ve done. No regrets.”
“As would I,” Fedrin quietly said. “No regrets.”
They stood there embracing for another moment before Etana backed away and returned to her station, her role no longer that of Fedrin’s wife but as Commander Etana, Chief Executive Officer of the Iovara preparing for battle.