The Arwen Book one: Defender

by Timothy Callahan

  She arrived at the hangar just as the crew walked out. She noticed someone missing and walked up to Fran. “Where is the professor?”

  “He decided to stay,” Fran responded. “We couldn’t talk him out of it.”

  Her first instinct was to go after him. But she knew that even if she did find him, he wouldn’t leave. She didn’t like the professor too much, but she did respect his mind and his work. “He made his choice. I guess we need to respect that.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Ricter walked down the now quiet hallway and picked up his communicator. He tested it and heard nothing but static in return. They had left him, just like he’d asked. One part of him was angry at Thomas for not going after him, but that quickly faded when he realized Thomas really had no other choice.

  The ship seemed different. It was most likely because he knew he was the only living thing besides the hibernating crew. His first order of business would be to find the food stores; then he could start studying their culture.

  He found himself in front of the main control room. Much to his surprise, the computer still worked. Ricter looked at it, perplexed.

  It showed the comet with a black background, the tail stretching out far with a small contrail leading to a large, white spot. He saw a targeting box appear over what looked like an outline of the shuttle. The box and the outline disappeared into the hole which then closed.

  He thought about it for a moment. Wormholes needed material to turn into strangelets. The comet provided that material until the shuttle went through. “You held the door open for them, didn’t you?”

  The lights in the hallways dimmed as the lights in the computer room slowly grew brighter. The screen went blank. Moments later images flashed. A picture of the Arwen, the shuttle landing, Kel and Fran finding the hibernation chamber, himself watching the history of the comet with the others. Events of the past few hours condensed into a few minutes.

  “You’ve been studying us as much as we’ve been studying you,” Ricter said. “Which means you might understand what I’m saying, right?”

  The computer flashed green twice as if in answer. “Did they give you voice?”

  He got no reply and wondered if maybe the few green flashes meant nothing. He had plenty of time to figure it all out before he died. He imagined the next group of people finding his skeleton on the floor holding all the notes he had written down. He didn’t fear death, only that they wouldn’t know who he was.

  He felt the presence more than heard it and swiftly turned around. He gasped and fell back into the computer when he saw the alien standing in front of him. The man, he assumed it was a man, was weak and needed the wall to support him. Fear gripped Ricter’s entire body, making it impossible for him to move or talk.

  The alien looked up. Ricter noticed he was similar to the Ulliam. He saw how, if they didn’t share the same genes, at least they shared the same lineage. Even though he was thin and fragile-looking, he held a toughness that Ricter remembered from when he had met the Ulliam. It whispered a few words in what almost sounded like standard. He seemed to be experimenting with newly formed muscles, then said in perfect standard, “Who are you?”

  Professor Ricter could not believe what he just heard.

  “Do you understand me?” the alien asked.

  “Yes,” Ricter finally replied, astonished. “You speak standard?”

  “Standard? I am speaking what I was taught to speak. Is this what you call standard?”

  “Yes, but how?”

  “If you understand me, then you will answer. Who are you?”

  “My name is Professor Theo Ricter. Who are you?”

  “Why are you on this ship?”

  “You were headed for a planet, and we were trying to prevent you from crashing.”

  Ricter read the face as confused. “We were headed back home.”

  “No, you weren’t,” Ricter said. “You were not headed for Ulliam.”

  “Ulliam?”

  “The planet you came from.”

  “We came from Klinment, not Ulliam. The Ulliam were our helpers.”

  Ricter shrugged. “I guess they renamed the planet. Now, can I ask you a question or two?”

  He nodded. “Yes, you may.”

  “Who are you? Where did you come from?”

  “I am a Gyssyc. I was in . . . sleep? Yes, I think that is the word you would use, sleep. The computer started to wake me the moment it was turned on. It listened to you talk and deciphered the language enough to . . . teach me how to speak it. I am . . . my name would be too hard for you to pronounce. But, I am the . . . leader of this ship.”

  “The leader? Like a captain?”

  “Captain? Cook? You have someone with that name.”

  “Well, no, her name is Marjorie Cook. Captain is just her rank.”

  Throughout the conversation the Gyssyc grew stronger. He now stood at his full height and did not need the wall to support him. “If that was not Klinment, then where is it?”

  Ricter took a deep breath. “That is a bit more complicated to answer. There must have been a malfunction; you’re about 100,000 light years off course.”

  The Gyssyc captain looked at Ricter, then walked over to the computer. Ricter watched from behind as the alien ran several programs. Finally, he turned around. “You are right. We are off course. We need to turn around and head back.”

  “Head back? Back to where?”

  “Klinment, home.”

  ~*~

  “Captain, I’m detecting wormhole activity.”

  Marjorie had just arrived on the bridge. She sat in the chair, hoping it wasn’t another attack. They didn’t have enough power to withstand another one.

  Looking at her monitor, she saw the wormhole slowly form. It was massive. Whatever ship was coming through, it was huge—and if it wanted to fight, the Arwen would have a hard time beating it.

  When she saw the white head of the comet ship, she paused. “Is that the same ship?”

  “It looks like it is,” her young officer replied. “Captain, something is being launched from it. It looks like some sort of escape pod.”

  “Did Ricter figure out a way to return?” Marjorie asked.

  “Professor Ricter is trying to contact us. He’s in the pod.”

  “Put him through.”

  His scowling face appeared on the screen. “Captain, please have someone pick me up. We need to discuss what happened to me over there.”

  ~*~

  “We can’t stop them,” Marjorie said to Ricter after he explained that situation. “All we can do is tell the Ulliam what to expect.”

  “They sure won’t like it,” Ricter replied. “I didn’t get any sense of malice from my friend over at the comet. He seemed surprised that he’d been in space for so long. I don’t think they have a good image of the Ulliam.”

  “Can you blame them?” Marjorie asked. “The last thing he remembers is a long war that killed millions. It’s going to take some time to get over that.”

  “Do you think the Ulliam will accept them?”

  “I don’t know. We won’t let them start another war with the Gyssyc.”

  “What if the Gyssyc start a war with them?”

  “They are our friends and we’ll defend them.”

  Professor Ricter sat back, looking relaxed for the first time since she’d known him. “What will happen to us?”

  “I sent a distress call back to fleet. They should get it in a few weeks. They’ll have to send a tug and tow us back or send a transport for us and send the Arwen into the sun to scuttle it.”

  “That would not be a fitting end for such a great ship,” Ricter said.

  “I know. My hope is that they take it back with them and use it as a museum.”

  Ricter pointed behind Marjorie. “Look, it’s leaving.”

  From the head of the comet several hundred strangelet particles converged to open the wormhole. Moments later the comet passed through and disappeared.

&nb
sp; “God’s speed, my friend,” Ricter said. “I hope your next encounter with the Ulliam goes better than your last.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  I am happy to report we will be leaving wormhole space in a few hours. These past few weeks have been hard. Sometimes I think inactivity is worse than being too busy. Repairing the Arwen became the first priority. It took only two weeks of round the clock shifts to get us up and running at 90%. If we’d had a working particle accelerator, we’d be at 100%.

  I was extremely pleased when the wormhole tug Joplin showed up to let us know it would be towing us to the Ulliam system. Admiral Noran, who is heading the taskforce that will meet the comet, felt it better for the Arwen to be there since we’re the only ones who have had contact with the Gyssyc.

  I have some personal reservations about that, since we only had one conversation with them, but Professor Ricter, always the confident one, has been spending the past six weeks poring over every detail he could get his hands on from the teams of engineers.

  I am also very happy to report some very good news. It appears Doctor Thomas Landing has decided he is going to stay on Regal. He and Ambassador Ling struck up a bit of a romance while we waited for the tug. They make such a nice couple. I’m happy for them.

  Marjorie saved her journal entry and stretched. It was nearly time for her to take command of the bridge. Before she left, she pressed a button on her communication station at her desk. “Professor Ricter.”

  Moments later she heard a click and an abrupt, “Yes, Marjorie.”

  “Theo, would you like to accompany me to the bridge while we exit wormhole space?”

  She heard the smile in his voice. “You read my request, how thoughtful.”

  “Well, it was one of the thousands of requests you’ve made that seemed reasonable.”

  He laughed. “I see. Well, then, I’ll meet you at the bridge.”

  She turned the communication off. The more she got to know the professor, the more she liked him. He may have been right at that first breakfast together; they were a lot alike, at least a lot more alike than she would ever admit.

  She pressed another button and announced, “We’ll be leaving wormhole space in thirty minutes. All personnel to your stations.”

  Excitement filled her veins as she walked down the busy hallway. Crew members rushed past to get to their posts, probably just as excited as she was to return to Corps space. It wasn’t exactly home, but at least it wasn’t wormhole space or Regal. She enjoyed her stay there, both the Jerrasic and Pullma were very kind, but by the end of the three weeks she felt as if their welcome had been worn out. At least the generosity would make both races look good in the eye of the Corps, which would bring them one step closer to becoming partners.

  She spotted Kel briskly walking toward the elevator that would take her to the bridge. She walked in and nodded. “Commander, how did you sleep last night?”

  “Great,” Kel replied, then continued after a pause, “Fran and I are getting along very well, if that’s what you’re hinting at.”

  Marjorie smiled. “That’s not exactly what I was getting at, but I’m glad to know it. Have you two made any plans for when we get out into real space?”

  “We’ve talked about it a bit, but nothing serious. We both have our careers and neither one of us wants to give them up.”

  She nodded, knowing the feeling. “She’s a good woman, Kel, I wish you both luck in figuring it out. I know I wasn’t able to.”

  The elevator door opened, and they were both greeted by a smiling Professor Ricter. “Captain, Commander, where will I be sitting?”

  Kel looked over at Marjorie, his mouth opened to talk. Marjorie smiled and winked at him. “Commander, would you show Professor Ricter to your station? I’m sure you’ll be too busy getting us out into real space to be using it.”

  “Of course,” Kel replied. “Professor, follow me.”

  Marjorie climbed into her chair and looked at the screens carefully. All seemed to be in working order. “Communications, get me in touch with the Joplin, tell them to begin the particle accelerator process.”

  The Joplin seemed to be nothing more than a flying particle accelerator. The crew quarters, bridge, and galley were tiny compared to the Arwen. The crew, straight-laced professionals when working, rowdy drunkards when off duty, spent most of the journey on the Joplin. Marjorie was glad they did. She didn’t need nor want that element on board her ship. Most of the time the tugs were used to pull or push damaged ships, but since the Arwen’s engines were operational, its only function was to punch a hole into wormhole space.

  Kel, who was running around the bridge as always, said, “Joplin reports strangelet count at ninety percent.”

  Marjorie looked over at Ricter. He was carefully examining Kel’s monitors. “See anything interesting?” she asked.

  “I find everything interesting, Captain,” he replied, taking his eyes off the readings. “I suspect if the Arwen had her drive, most of these monitors would be different.”

  “Not too much. Kel gets most of his information from the other stations. That station is only really used as a backup in case he needs to help.”

  “Joplin reports strangelet count at one hundred; wormhole creation in ten seconds.”

  From front of the blunt-nosed tug, a small, glowing amber shot out. The tiny spec expanded larger, brighter, revealing more of real space.

  “Sir,” a sensor officer said, “I’m picking up some space debris.”

  Kel ran over to the station and looked at the screen. “Captain, take a look. I’ll turn on the external camera.”

  Marjorie looked at the image in time to see a large, silver piece of debris enter the wormhole. It seemed to be attracted to the large magnetic field of the Joplin, still creating strangelets, still trying to hold the wormhole open.

  She witnessed the horror as if it were moving in slow motion. The debris, nearly as large as the tug, ripped through its hull. The Joplin drifted off course. Badly damaged, the magnetic field collapsed, releasing all the contained strangelets. The Joplin evaporated in a flash.

  The wormhole it had created visibly shrunk. “Pilot, full speed—we need to reach that wormhole before it closes!”

  The gravity plates groaned at the high acceleration, pushing the crew tight into their seats. The hole continued to shrink. If they didn’t make it, they would either be lost in wormhole space forever or vaporized like the tug. Neither option was one Marjorie liked.

  The Arwen burst out into real space. The wormhole collapsed in on itself just as the engine passed through. Marjorie let out a sigh of relief.

  One by one the other screens turned on. She looked at each one, every angle, every view showed debris, the kind of debris she would normally see after a fierce battle.

  “Captain,” Kel said, “sensors show we’ve entered into a massive debris field.”

  “From what?” she asked.

  Kel’s face turned a ghostly white as he continued to read the screen. “I’m picking up beacons from the debris. Distress calls and ID tags. Captain, this is the Ulliam taskforce. It’s been destroyed.”

  Marjorie fell back into her seat. That task force had over two hundred ships, both Corps and Ulliam. Over fifty thousand men and women served on those ships. What could have happened?

  Marjorie gathered her wits when she saw the entire crew, including the professor, looking at her for the next order. “Where is the comet?”

  “It looks like it’s in orbit around Ulliam,” Professor Ricter said, looking at one of Kel’s monitors.

  The only survivor of a battle, the only one powerful enough to destroy the fleet. Only the Gyssyc knew what had happened here. “Kel, set a course for Ulliam and go to red alert. We’re going to get some answers even if we have to invade the comet to get them.”

  Book Two

  Chapter Fifteen

  The empty husk of the battle cruiser Frodo bounced off the shield of the Arwen causing them to ripple. The Frodo roll
ed before gently hitting the shield again. The Arwen slowed, allowing the dead wreck the space it needed to tumble into the dense debris field that used to be the Ulliam taskforce.

  Captain Marjorie Cook grabbed the side of her command chair as the Frodo struck the ship’s protective shield one last time. The sound of the collision echoed throughout the ship a few times before fading into silence. She turned to her second in command and asked, “Kel, can you find any survivors?”

  He shook his head. “No sir. The Gyssyc destroyed everything.”

  Professor Ricter spoke up. “We don’t know they did this.”

  “Who else could it have been?” Kel yelled, snapping his head to face Professor Ricter. The two stared at each other, Kel’s face tight with rage. His fist balled so tight the vanes on to top of his palm pulsated.

  “Calm down, Commander. Focus on your job. I agree with the professor. We don’t know what happened here and I’m not going to make any guesses.”

  “Yes, sir,” Kel replied. There was great agitation in his walk as he headed to the communications officer’s station. He placed his hands on the back his chair, his grip denting the fabric. “Any replies from Ulliam?”

  “No, sir. I’ll keep trying.”

  Marjorie tried to figure the timeline. The comet came out of wormhole space three weeks ago. The Ulliam fleet would have met them, then something happened which destroyed the fleet and then the Arwen arrived. It would take a week for the Corps to quickly organize another fleet to investigate. Not knowing if Admiral Norris sent out a distress call during the attack, she had no idea when the next fleet might arrive. She figured she had time to figure out what was going on.

  Most of the destroyed ships looked as if they had been carved. The weapon used had to be a tight energy beam. Marjorie examined the sensor data as it filtered through to her computer. Gamma radiation saturated every piece of debris. The power to focus gamma radiation tight enough to slice through the hull of a battle cruiser was more than any Corps ship could produce. An energy source as large as the comet’s could do it. She needed more information and she needed it now. “Professor Ricter, Commander Lipton, I want you two to gather all the information you have and meet me in the conference room in twenty minutes. Helm, keep on course to Ulliam. Communication, try to contact the Ulliam president.”