The boarding launch was designed to transport an assault team of twelve heavily armed marines, yet every jump seat behind him sat vacant. According to Director DeSoto, the alien ships had contaminated all of the mining personnel he had sent aboard with some fatal biological agent they had not been able to isolate, so this had to be a one-man mission. BLUE MONARCHS were designed exactly for these types of tactical scenarios, and Correlli was buoyed with genetically encoded confidence as he ran through multiple permutations for achieving his objective.
If the ships had been stored next to each other in their subterranean lair, then logically it stood to reason that Emerson would have entered the first one he encountered. Extrapolating any further would be a futile exercise. As Correlli stealthily approached the rotating circular formation, he realized there was no way to determine which of the ships had emerged from the planetoid first, and as far as anyone could tell, they were all identical.
Then, without warning, the variables changed and the decision was made for him.
Along the caudal fin and stern of the farthest alien vessel, brilliant blue veins pulsing with energy erupted in a crisscross pattern as it moved rapidly out of their radial array. The hull appeared to stretch unnaturally, the bow straining towards an artificial event horizon of a hyperspace corridor while the rest of the ship trailed streaks of shimmering blue light in its wake. Almost immediately, normal space reasserted itself, closing the event horizon and sealing the hyperspace rupture left by the now vanished alien ship. In short order, each of the remaining ships departed on a different hyperspace vector, unhindered by UNSA forces, until only two remained.
Correlli watched grimly as each potential rescue opening slipped from his grasp, not knowing if Emerson was still on a remaining ship or if he had already disappeared into the vastness of space. But at the rate the alien vessels were escaping, he had to make a choice now or Emerson could be lost forever. Approaching from a relative position below the pin-wheeling ships, he looked for anything that might guide his decision.
“C’mon, Emerson, give me something,” he thought aloud.
As one of the two remaining ships moved off, the lights along the hull of the remaining ship suddenly flickered, flashed, then changed from cerulean to crimson. For Correlli there could not have been a clearer signal. He cranked the boarding launch hard over and began scouring the hull for something resembling an airlock.
30
Emerson’s legs burned fiercely as he ran. The dash through the subterranean tunnels seemed ages ago, his morning run—a millennium, yet his muscles remembered they had already been worked hard twice in one day and he could feel it. With each labored breath, with every pounding stride, a resolve began to harden in his heart. He swore he would never again be so vulnerable to the whims of others.
DARAC abruptly interjected, pulling Emerson out of his thoughts.
“Hurry, Emerson! If the Auspex reasserts control, I will be unable to help you any further.” There was no panic in DARAC’s voice, simply a neutral statement of facts.
“I’m going as fast as I can,” Emerson wheezed in response. “I’m tired! Do you even understand what that means?”
“Theoretically yes, but I cannot experience fatigue. You only have 253.2 meters left after this next turn. I want you to—” DARAC was unexpectedly cut off. The wayfinder in the deck plate stuttered, briefly turning bright blue before returning to crimson.
“DARAC?!”
“I… am here. Do not stop, Emerson. Even if you do not hear from me, I will keep the wayfinder lit with crimson until you reach your objective. GO!”
After running through several narrow corridors, Emerson suddenly emerged into a massive, vaulted chamber filled with hundreds upon hundreds of cylindrical containers. Slowing just enough to look inside the closest ones, Emerson could see each was filled with a cryogenically frozen Triven of giant proportions.
“What are they?!” he yelled to DARAC while pumping his arms to pick up speed.
“These are clones generated from the original Triven High Kings. The Triven have a prophecy that the High Kings of old will return and, with their Imperator, lead them to ultimate victory over their enemies. This is a fulfillment of that prophecy. From what I can detect, they have been genetically altered to be stronger, faster, and more powerful than even the most vicious Triven shock trooper. You must tell the UNSA all you have seen here.”
“But, why don’t you just tell them yourself?”
“I have my reasons. Thirty-three meters to target.”
Passing out of the clone chamber, Emerson once again entered a dizzying maze of convoluted corridors that all looked the same except for a slight variation in the talon patterns along each wall. I need to learn their language, he thought, then filed it away for the future—assuming he had one.
Finally the crimson line ended beside the outline of a non-descript hatch where Emerson halted, doubling over and gulping air as fast as his diaphragm and lungs could manage.
“Just a moment, Emerson, while I cycle the—”
Again DARAC was silenced as the crimson line turned back to blue and did not waver. Without warning, the hatch slid open to reveal a small chamber with an identical hatch at the far end, which also flew open, exposing the ship’s interior to the frigid blackness of space. Caught unanchored and exhaling heavily, Emerson was swiftly and mercilessly swept out into the frozen grasp of hard vacuum.
***
Correlli searched desperately for a way into the alien ship. He flew the boarding launch perilously close to the ventral hull of the leviathan, but he saw no insets, outlines, or other indicators that might reveal an airlock. Sensors were still useless even at point-blank range. As far as the flight systems computer was concerned, the alien vessel simply did not exist.
Maneuvering to examine the starboard side, the BLUE MONARCH suddenly found the flight controls were intractably locked. Correlli exerted his considerable strength but the stick refused to yield. He hit EMERGENCY OVERRIDE on the center flight console and was shocked by the unexpected response: OVERRIDE NOT AVAILABLE. He had no time to consider his options. The boarding launch accelerated violently, at first shoving him back into the command couch, then pushing him against his restraint harness as it rolled to align itself with the port side of the alien ship.
A decompression alarm sounded accompanied by flashing red strobes. The launch’s hull integrity display highlighted the starboard boarding hatch preparing to open. Correlli jammed on his tactical helmet and sealed himself in against the impending vacuum while still trying to regain control of his wayward craft.
***
For the first second of his involuntary trip into space, the sound of escaping atmosphere rushed past Emerson’s ears, then all was silent as he tumbled out the airlock.
Tick.
Fortunately, he was already exhaling when the doors had opened, preventing the explosive decompression of his lungs. He finished this action, and felt the ice crystals from it clinging to his face.
Tick.
By now, the accelerated evaporative cooling of exposed bodily fluids began freezing Emerson’s mouth and respiratory tract. He somehow managed to remember his basic space flight emergency training and shut his eyes hard to prevent ice from forming there.
Tick.
He began to feel swelling in his entire body as the water inside him turned into vapor. If his eyes had been open, Emerson would have seen his skin beginning to turn a pale blue. Nitrogen bubbles began forming in his circulatory system and his joints began to ache excruciatingly.
Tick.
Emerson’s blood pressure began dropping rapidly, as his blood also began to boil.
Tick.
He thought about his mother and father as images from his childhood flashed through his mind.
I don’t want to die… I don’t… want… to…
Tick.
Suddenly, there was warmth.
Light.
A powerful hand under his frozen and swoll
en armpit.
Oxygen.
Life!
As Emerson’s brief journey through space concluded, the final alien ship entered hyperspace and disappeared.
31
Ashley Reed sat in her warmly lit cell aboard the Triven attack ship. With her legs crossed and arms resting easily in her lap, she breathed evenly and waited patiently. She did not have to endure long. Lysus was very punctual, and, as expected, the bulkhead door opened and the small Triven hopped across the threshold.
“And how are you this morning, child?” he twittered and hissed.
“Very well, Preceptor. May the goddess bless you this fine day,” Ashley answered, in the more traditional Triven morning greeting.
“You’re making good progress, Ashley. The Domina is extremely pleased.”
“Thank you, Preceptor. I’ve had a good teacher,” said Ashley, surprised at her own sincerity.
“I know that you’ve lost track of time here, so I thought you would like to know it has been thirty-six of your standard days since you came aboard,”
“Was captured, you mean,” Ashley interrupted.
“Since your internment,” corrected Lysus. “We are now very close to the Triven homeworld, and after landing, you will go into service with the Dominar and Domina.”
“What does that mean, exactly?”
“You will continue your language studies, of course,” the little Triven whistled and clicked, bobbing his head slightly. “And you will learn Triven customs and courtesies so you may function appropriately at court. If you’re blessed by the goddess, you may even meet the Imperator himself.”
“But why me?” asked Ashley.
“You seem to have an extraordinary ability, for your species, to understand new things very quickly. That is all I will tell you for now.”
“I see. So I’ll be a well-trained pet to make the Dominar and Domina look important with their human curiosity. Maybe I can do backflips and really impress everyone.”
“Or you could be sent to the forced labor camps and worked to death,” countered Lysus. “You had better learn to adopt a proper tone and attitude, or you may find yourself the main course in someone’s honor.”
“I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before someone eats me, Preceptor. I have no illusions about surviving long here.”
“Don’t be a fool, child. If you successfully continue your training, you’ll grow up to be a very influential retainer. There are many such at court and among the powerful Houses across the Sodality.”
“I want to go home, Lysus.”
“For now, child, you are home. It is better you become accustomed to that idea.”
“It will be as you say, Preceptor. May you serve forever for the glory of the Imperator,” Ashley conceded, bowing her head.
“Much better, child. Much better.”
With that, the small Triven turned swiftly around and left Ashley to her conflicted thoughts.
***
Branden Reed exercised intently in his dimly lit cell, still unaware he was only separated from Ashley by the thickness of one bulkhead. With his feet up on the wall and body angled outward and facing down, he continued to silently count off his pushups. Perspiration streamed down his face and pooled beneath him on the deck plate.
Seventy-five, seventy-six, seventy-seven, seventy… eight, seventy… nine, eighty, eighty… one…
His cell door opened suddenly and he immediately dropped down to the floor, assumed the appropriate submissive position, and waited for the worst.
“Your arm has healed well, wouldn’t you say?” rasped the Triven through the translator tubes still inserted in Branden’s ears.
“Yes, Dominar, thanks to your generosity to someone as worthless as I am.”
“Indeed. I should think your gratitude to me would be more heartfelt than that.”
“May the Dominar live forever for the glory of the Imperator,” Branden answered in the ancient form.
“You are growing strong, human. There may be hope for you yet.”
“May it be as the Dominar says.”
“We will be landing on the homeworld very soon. Make sure you clean yourself up, otherwise others will think I’ve simply brought them a tasty conquest.”
“Yes, Dominar,” said Branden, crossing his right arm over his chest. The Triven paced slowly around him, circling like a predator.
“I intend to fight you as my proxy in the games, human. But strength alone is not enough. You need training and experience. Here, you will receive both. Work hard and you will be treated well. Work badly, and you will die.”
Branden clenched his jaw ever so slightly. I will kill this lizard, he swore to himself. I will live and learn and fight, if only to one day show his steaming innards to the rest of the Sodality. Then the dark thought passed and he remembered something that brought light and hope to his heart.
“May the Dominar not be angry with me, or think me unthankful, but may I ask the Dominar a question?”
The Triven hesitated in his pacing. “You may speak it.”
“My sister, Ashley—is she aboard this ship? And if so may I see her? Even if only for ten heartbeats?”
Branden felt like his own heartbeats were flooding the cell with overpowering sound as they thudded in his ears.
“Your sister is dead,” hissed the Dominar.
Branden inhaled sharply, but did not move from his submissive position.
“Prepare yourself, human. Your survival training begins now.” That said, the Dominar left Branden in his darkened cell with a darkened heart.
In bitterness, he beat upon the deck plates and silently began to cry.
32
“Will he be all right?”
“Do you want the long answer or the short answer?”
“The short answer, please.”
“The short answer is yes, but he’ll need some significant recovery time and moderate to extensive physical therapy. He’s on a respirator for the moment. If you hadn’t been there when you were…”
“I know. But he’s tough. He’ll be fine.”
“Indeed. Right now he needs rest. There’ll be plenty of time to debrief him later.”
“Time is of the essence, doctor. Please let me know when he’s awake.”
“I will, Lieutenant. Thanks for checking in on him.”
“Of course.”
“Are you going to tell him?”
“When the time is right. I don’t want to overwhelm him right away. He has a difficult enough road ahead without that extra burden.”
“Okay, I’ll leave that to you.”
“Thank you, doctor.”
***
In the mission planning room aboard the Ajax, BLUE MONARCH Lieutenant Anton Correlli tried to make sense of the all events he had just lived through. He was especially distressed to learn the launch orders he had received aboard the Tempest were not authentic. Standing at attention, Correlli presented his official debrief to the trio of officers before him.
“Sirs. The boarding launch departed from controlled flight after my ventral pass along the alien ship. It then executed an uncommanded increase in thrust and changed course without any navigational inputs from me. Override protocols were denied by the launch’s flight system. After a brief sprint to a position along the alien vessel’s port side, I received an auditory and visual decompression warning. I put on my tactical helmet and sealed my flight suit.
“The launch’s starboard boarding hatch proceeded to deploy, exposing the entire troop compartment to hard vacuum. Six seconds after the hatch deployed, Emerson Avery floated uncontrolled and untethered into the troop compartment at high velocity without a space suit and nearing critical exposure to hard vacuum. The boarding hatch immediately resealed itself with no control input from me. I managed to reach back and grab him under the arm before he hit the portside bulkhead, and immediately started the repressurization sequence. The heaters cycled automatically and per training I rendered first aid for expo
sure to hard vacuum. End report.”
“Incredible,” declared Kristie.
“Absolutely astounding,” Thorsten contributed. They both waited for the flag officer to add his input, but Prescott sat silently with his eyes closed.
“Sir?” Kristie queried.
“Emerson’s rescue is extremely fortunate, yes,” Prescott answered. “But this manipulation of ship systems by parties unknown is beyond disconcerting.”
“How do we know Emerson himself didn’t execute this entire sequence of events?” asked Thorsten.
“That seems highly unlikely, since he was aboard an alien ship about which we know next to nothing,” countered Prescott. “DeSoto’s teams have no information about how to access those systems, and although Emerson is exceptionally bright, I just don’t see him pulling off that level of system exploitation.”
“Then who’s hacking our systems?”
Prescott closed his eyes again and an uneasy silence settled over the four men.
***
Emerson Avery felt himself slowly ascending into consciousness. It was an odd sensation, much like coming out of a deep sleep, yet there was a different quality to it he could not quite put his finger on. Muffled voices intruded gently into the pool of silence from which he rose.
He inhaled deeply and carefully opened his eyes. His vision was blurred but rapidly began to clear as he blinked in the soft warm light. He could see, and that was reassuring despite the ache in his chest. Then he realized he did not know where he was, or what had happened to him. He tried to move, but a burning fire in every muscle immediately dissuaded him of further effort. A seed of panic began to germinate in the back of his mind, but a rich baritone immediately rooted it out.
Cerulean Rising - Part II: Evolutions Page 11