The Arwen Book one: Defender

by Timothy Callahan

  “Do you mean art? From what I read, before we arrived you didn’t have art. You didn’t really have any culture other than war.”

  “Not entirely true,” he said. “We had technology, if not we never would have found your moon base with our probes. But yes, the wars retarded any sort of culture. I believe if you hadn’t found us we would have figured all that out.”

  “Do you think our arrival was a good or bad thing?”

  He seemed to think about it for a moment as if trying to choose his words carefully. “I seem to recall Merriam was against everything you brought to us. He said we would have figured it out on our own and I agree with him. I think we would have figured everything out, but I am grateful and thankful for all you have done for us. However, I do find the hero worship of your race troublesome.”

  “That has always made me feel uncomfortable.”

  “Perhaps the new era of leadership, the post-Merriam era, will change that. President Packard has said on many occasions the first time he ever felt respect was the moments after he killed Merriam. That shrug at the end was a sign of respect, don’t you think?”

  Marjorie remembered watching the security tapes from that moment. Merriam did indeed smile and shrug seconds before he died. There would be debate for many years what that meant. To Marjorie it was a sign of respect, as if Merriam had realized moments before he died the Ulliam could indeed take care of themselves. “Yes, I do.”

  “You see, Captain, if you had breakfast with me every morning we could have conversations like this everyday.”

  Marjorie laughed. “I’m sorry, Commander. If we serve on the same ship again I promise we will have breakfast together every morning.”

  “May I ask you a more personal question?”

  “Ask me and I’ll tell you if I feel I should answer it.”

  He cleared his throat. “What exactly made Captain Lipton so special?”

  “That’s a fair question,” Marjorie said. She thought back to her first meeting with Kel. He was so youthful, so full of energy, and very eager to please. He knew where everything was, even though he never served on a battle cruiser before. He knew all the bridge crew’s name even though he had never met them. That impressed her. “Kel has a presence about him. He could take charge of a situation like no one I’ve ever seen before. He could be your best friend or your worst enemy, depending on what the situation was. The best thing I can say about him is this: he brought the best out of everyone around him, including me.”

  “How does he do that?”

  Marjorie shrugged. “All good leaders have that skill. It can be learned but it works better if you’re born with it.”

  “Do you think I have it?”

  “That’s hard for me to answer,” she said. “You have skills to motivate people and you know your job and you do your job very well. But I think because you are an Ulliam you have a steeper hill to climb to gain the kind of respect Kel did with the crew.”

  “Do you trust I can motivate the crew should it be needed?”

  “Commander, know this, you are my second and I trust you to carry out my order. I trust you to give me all the information you feel is relevant to any situation. I trust you to take command of the Arwen should I not be able too. I think one day you will make a good captain of either a human or Ulliam ship.”

  “Thank you, Captain. I hope to one day be a good captain and I hope you will help to make that happen for me.”

  “You have my word I will,” she said. “Heck, one day you might even take over the Arwen.” Marjorie lay down on the short bench. “I think I’m going to take a nap. It’s been a very long day and I need my rest.”

  “Very good, Captain. I’ll keep my eye out for any rescue ships. The beacon is transmitting at full power. If you don’t mind I’m going to have some of the rations.”

  “Leave something for me,” Marjorie joked and closed her eyes.

  Marjorie’s dreams were filled with space and endless stars. She saw herself as the Arwen, pushing through dark matter clouds, observing planets teeming with life as she orbited above it. She saw black holes suck in matter, pulling her in, tearing her conscience apart.

  The beeping of the intercom woke her up. Commander Pippleton answered it. “Captain, it’s the Peter Wiggins. They’re coming to pick us up.”

  Marjorie nodded, her dream slowly fading in her memory. “Good. How long was I asleep?”

  “A few hours. You must have really needed that nap.”

  Groggy, she replied, “I guess I did. A word to the wise, always get sleep when you can because you never know when you’ll get another chance. I have a feeling I might not be sleeping again for a very long time.”

  ~*~

  Kel’s beaming smile greeted her as she stepped off the escape pod. Next to him was Fran who ran up to Marjorie and gave her a tight hug. “Captain, it’s good to see you. When we got word the Arwen was hit . . . ”

  “I know,” Marjorie said. “She’s a tough old ship and she’ll protect us.” She looked at Kel. “Captain Lipton, please report on what has happened.”

  Kel filled her in on the attack, the destruction of the fleet, and his order to scatter the forces. When he was done, she simply nodded in acknowledgment. “Have you checked out the Arwen?”

  “No, Captain. I ordered the fleet to pick up your crew.”

  “Have you gotten the chief?”

  “Yes, he was rescued a few hours ago.”

  “Good, have him and his crew meet me here. I want to go over to the Arwen and inspect it. If we can repair it I want that done as well.”

  “Captain, shouldn’t we be concentrating on a counterattack?” Kel asked.

  “We are,” she replied. “But I will not go into battle without a working battle cruiser if I can avoid it. Kel, what was going on with the Gyssyc ship? The one Lincoln was in control of.”

  “We don’t know,” he replied. “I’ve only had a chance to glance at the reports, but it seems they left.”

  “They went into wormhole space?”

  “Yes. We can’t track them in wormhole space. They seem to have a way of blocking the technology that allows us to track ships.”

  “Of course,” Marjorie said. “I don’t think they’d show us such a useful tactic if they didn’t have a way to cloak themselves.” Marjorie closed her eyes to think. “I want you to gather the remains of the Ulliam fleet and meet us around the Arwen. Do you know if the Rulla’s ship survived?”

  “It was damaged but it did survive.”

  “Good, contact the Rulla and have him meet me here after I get back from inspecting the Arwen. We’re going to need all the help we can get if we’re going to destroy that Gyssyc ship.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Admiral Cook stood in the hologram room; above him the armada approached. The upcoming battle would be long, hard, and would cost him most of his fleet.

  The Valentine was as ready as it was going to be. All guns were charged to full, all missiles loaded to bring as much death and destruction as possible. His fleet was hiding in wormhole space awaiting his orders to attack.

  The computer marked one of the ships with a red circle indicating sensors detected a particle accelerator warming up. Another ship turned red and then another. Cook walked over to a control panel and adjusted the scene, switching the sensor data from wormhole to real space. The computer pinpointed where the two intersected, the point where the fleet would come out. “Helm, move the ship to the location I’m sending you. I’m on my way to the bridge.”

  He briskly walked out of the hologram room and toward the lift. The Valentine was a fine ship, top of the line in both firepower and technology. The elevator zipped along gracefully, pausing for a moment while it changed direction from up, to left, and then up again as it made its way to the bridge. It had a crew of over five thousand. Its armor and shields were thick enough to withstand the most powerful gamma laser for a good three minutes of continues fire. Payton actually wondered if he could take on
the entire fleet with just his ship. Confidence was never one of the admiral’s problems.

  The door opened and he walked onto the bridge. The command bridge was much larger than he was used to. The crew was spread out comfortably, not cramped like a normal battle cruiser. The displays were crisp and clean. The readings were colorful and easy to read even from a distance. The Valentine had twice as many sensors as any other ship and could process the information faster and more accurately. It was a ship built to be a flagship, a ship built to bring fear into any system it entered.

  “Commander, give me the status.”

  “We’re detecting wormhole activity in the location you provided,” his second, Commander Applegate, said.

  “Helm, how far away are we?”

  “We’ll be in firing range in two minutes.”

  Two minutes, the first set of ships that come out will be able to raise their shields and power their weapons by then. “Ready the Star missiles. Fire when ready.”

  Missiles in space have, for the most part, unlimited range but are significantly slower than an energy attack. By the time the missiles reached the fleet, the battle would have been joined. If any got through, however, they would cause enough chaos to give them a chance to win.

  “We’ve launched our entire payload of missiles,” Commander Applegate said. “Impact with fleet in five minutes. Ships are starting to penetrate into real space.”

  “Ready all energy beams, fire when we’re in range. Is the gamma laser ready?”

  “Ready to discharge when you order.”

  The gamma laser, reversed engineered from the Gyssyc ship, was the most powerful energy weapon they had. It took two minutes to get enough power stored to fire just one shot but that shot would be powerful enough to slice through any ship that didn’t have their shields or armor modified. In order to take full advantage of that power, the gamma gun had a dedicated generator.

  The first light from the forming wormhole slowly out brightened the stars behind it. A ship, a small cruiser, entered real space. Above it another wormhole formed and another ship, a larger battle cruiser, entered space. Soon more and more wormholes opened and more ships entered. Some came through the same entrance, others by themselves. Thousands upon thousands of wormholes, more than he’s ever seen, formed.

  Trying to hide the terror he felt inside his gut, Admiral Cook asked, “Are we in range yet?”

  “Thirty seconds,” Commander Applegate said.

  Cook looked at his readings trying to determine where the flagship would be. It amazed him how disciplined the formation was. These ships came from three different worlds, each world had its own design, its own philosophy for war, yet they all acted as if they had been together for a long time. It made no sense, none at all.

  “We’re in range.”

  Cook marked a ship on his computer, it was large and in the middle of the fleet. “Target that ship with the gamma gun. Tell all the gunners to fire at high priority targets. Carriers should be aimed at first, then battle cruisers.”

  The beams crossed the void of space in seconds and impacted on their targets. Armor plating peeled away and floated above the ships that had been hit. The second volley accomplished the same thing, damaging ships that never expected any kind of resistance when they first arrived. The fools didn’t even have their shields raised.

  As the gunners continued to pound the enemy fleet, some ships fell out of formation. Those that had been separated were easy targets and were quickly destroyed. Cook smiled when he saw two, then three carriers explode. Two more ships, cruisers, exploded in nuclear death before the beams started to be absorbed by hastily erected force fields.

  “Gamma laser ready,” Commander Applegate said.

  Admiral Cook isolated the ship he had targeted and in a professional, even tone said, “Fire.”

  The Valentine trembled as the gamma beam fired. Cook grinned when he saw the green light destroy the force field around the ship and strike the metal surface. They didn’t have the same reflective surfaces as the Corps ships and the full power of the beam caused the armament to turn white hot, expand, and break off. The beam made short work of the now exposed insides. The gunner moved the beam downward, as if he were wielding a sharp knife from a great distance. When he was done, the gash was deep and devastating.

  “Gunners, concentrate all fire on that ship.”

  The continued assault sent furniture and aliens floating in space. After a few more volleys, the ship was nothing but an empty, unusable hull.

  The combined fleet moved forward without pause. If that were the flag ship, there would be complete confusion. Admiral Cook looked at his screen, scanning, trying to find that one weakness. “Communications, can you find the ship with the most chatter?”

  “Looking now,” his communications officer said.

  “Admiral, should we order the fleet to attack?” his second asked.

  “Not yet, wait until the Star bombs go off and then order the fleet into real space. I want as much confusion as we can muster before we show our cards. Let me know when the gamma gun is ready for another blast.”

  “I’m detecting fighters,” his second said, looking over his sensor’s officer’s shoulder. “I also detect several battle cruisers breaking off and heading our way.”

  “Good, just what I wanted. Fire at those battle cruisers, our shields should protect us from the fighters.”

  Payton became aware of the hum of the computers and the activity of the people around him. The battle had just begun and it was going exactly how he hoped. They could win this battle if things continued this way.

  A blanket of fire erupted from the Valentine as the fighters reached the range of his defense shields. Playing on his computer screen was an awesome display of light and explosion. Tiny rockets exploded close to the fighters sending high-speed shards of shrapnel in all directions. Any fighter caught near the explosion was ripped to shreds. The fighters kept coming and some made it through the screen only to be destroyed by the computer controlled anti-fighter guns.

  The battle cruisers sent from the fleet turned broadside to the Valentine. They fired their energy beams, striking the shields. The ship shuttered slightly as the shield rippled, dispersing the deadly fire.

  “Shields are fine,” his second said. “Down to ninety percent and recharging.”

  Gunners concentrated their firepower on the five battle cruisers. One of the ship’s shields collapsed. Weakened, it turned to escape but it was quickly destroyed in a hail of laser fire boiling the metal apart. Explosive decompression finished the job and a trail of wreckage would forever follow the ship into the depths of space.

  The other ships tightened their formation, trying to combine their firepower. The explosive wall of the anti-fighter missiles formed a shroud of fire around the Valentine as its energy beams continued to fire on the enemy.

  “Gamma laser is ready to fire.”

  He pointed to his screen, highlighting the center ship. “Fire at that ship. Aim for the engines. I want an explosion if possible.”

  Payton’s chair vibrated as the gamma generator released its charge. The middle ship was hit on the broadside. The shields were useless as the beam sliced through to the opposite side. It moved, slicing, dissecting the ship from the middle to the stern heading for the engine.

  The engine exploded and the nuclear fireball blasted outward in all directions. Shrapnel bounced off the force fields of the ships around it. For a few seconds the beams of energy fired from those ships halted and the ships moved away, trying to distance themselves from the exploding battle cruiser.

  “Give me a report on the Star missiles,” Cook ordered.

  “Impact in one minute.”

  “Send a message to the wormhole fleet. Tell them to get ready.”

  The minute went by slowly. His gunners managed to destroy one more battle cruiser, his fighter wall prevented any smaller craft from penetrating. His ship was in perfect condition while it rained death and destruction
on the enemy.

  The Star missile exploded in a nova white spherical ball. The ship it hit evaporated, leaving in its wake nothing but vaporized matter. Seconds later, another star-shaped explosion, and then another in rapid succession. Explosions happened seconds apart, some overlapping each other. It was beautiful to behold as though an entire galaxy of stars had all supernovae simultaneously.

  The enemy fleet responded by moving out of the tight formation, trying to create space, trying not to be close as ships disintegrated around them.

  Anticipation caused Admiral Cook to stand. This was the time, now the real battle was about to begin. “Tell the fleet to enter real space now!”

  He spotted the first wormhole above the enemy fleet and the Gandalf, a battle cruiser much like the Arwen, passed through. Another wormhole opened and a carrier, its fighters ready to launch, entered into real space. The missiles continued to explode, causing the kind of confusion and distraction Cook wanted while his ships readied themselves for combat.

  The Gandalf fired and the carrier launched the fighters. Other ships now passed through, destroyers, carriers, battle cruisers. Every type of warship he had passed into real space and surrounded the enemy fleet.

  Payton paced around the bridge. The two fleets had moved closer to each other, his fleet tightening the sphere, the armada doing its best to break out of the bubble.

  The Valentine fired its powerful gamma gun into the enemy, destroying another battle cruiser. He looked over the shoulder of the man working the shields watching as they slowly diminished. They would be gone soon.

  Through it all it seemed they would win. The number of smaller ships dwindled but his mighty battle cruisers and the all important carriers survived. Fighters continued to land in the heat of battle to refuel and reload while his battle cruisers cut the armada to pieces. The precision of destruction was beautiful to watch.

  “Admiral,” his second said, “we’re getting a communication from the Ulliam system. It says there was an attack by some unknown Gyssyc battleship. The fleet had to retreat and reorganize for a second assault.”