Relentless: Book One of the Union Warship Saga

by Scott Mullins

  “Bridge. Is everything all right?”

  “Wait one,” responded the operations officer. After a few moments the captain came on.

  “Mr. Lokae. Testing has been suspended and we have been recalled to the nearest homeworld immediately. Report to my quarters. I’ll meet you there.”

  “Yes sir.”

  ***

  Ensign Deas arrived an hour later at the assigned hangar with an impatient looking Lieutenant Sotaki waiting along with a few other members of the Voltari crew. The crew was still stationed at the stardock awaiting reassignment after the decision to decommission and scrap the Voltari had been made.

  Hirusho Sotaki was arguably the best operations officer in the fleet. He was all business, all the time. Rarely was there ever a smile on his stern face. He was responsible for the day to day workings and maintenance of the starship. Life support, artificial gravity, communications, food processors, water and waste handling, navigation and sensor arrays virtually everything that was not an engine, power core or weapon system was his responsibility, including janitorial concerns. While most joked about broken toilets he took them seriously, a poorly managed waste system could have serious consequences onboard a ship.

  He was of oriental decent but to look at him there was only a hint of the features one commonly associated with Asians. The almond eyes, high cheeks, short square chin, thick hair were mild but still there.

  “What’s the deal with this?” Deas asked Sotaki.

  The lieutenant shrugged.

  “I don’t know,” he responded. “Seems we have been reassigned under direct orders from the president. Captain Connor was as well over a week ago. Maybe we are under investigation for wrong doing regarding the ship that attacked us. I guess we will find out.”

  “All I did was fly man. The captain says go that way I go that way,” Deas replied with a laugh clapping his hands together and sending one hand off in an arc imitating a flying craft. They gathered their bags and began loading into the shuttle. “Where are we going in this rust bucket anyway?”

  “Do I look like an information booth?” Hirusho asked. “I know what you know. We are taking this shuttle to the headquarters on the planet and from there I don’t know.”

  “See! You do know more than me. I didn’t know we were going to the planet,” Daxton said with a smile.

  “Grow up Dax. We could be in serious shit here. We won’t get our orders until we reach our final destination I was told,” Hirusho growled.” Sit back, shut up and enjoy the ride.”

  ***

  Admiral Nathaniel Perry was an aristocratic looking gentleman with salt and pepper hair, well-trimmed goatee, piercing green eyes. Everything about his appearance lent itself to precision.

  Brice occupied the left chair of the two sitting before the desk. They were covered in dark leather with low curving backs and armrests. The office mirrored the Admiral in its decor, clean and sharp. Highly accurate models of every ship he had commanded, twelve in all, were displayed in an elegantly gold trimmed, transparent display case. The Ragnarok dominated the center of the case. Under each ship was a name plate with name and dates of his service aboard. Most of them had been warships but not all.

  His distinguished career had been long and eventful. He started the Razors. Command had not been his first path, it was thrust upon him. His team was being transported to a drop when they had struck some sort of anomaly in space that dropped the ship out of warp. Many of the crew were killed including the captain. Even with the ship badly damaged, he managed to take control and get them back home.

  Admiral Perry sat quietly looking at Commander Brice across the desk seemingly collecting his thoughts before speaking.

  “Commander, effective immediately you have been reassigned and will be leaving, with your boys, on assignment for the president,” the admiral began. “Your handler, your pilots, and your three squad mates have all been included. I don’t know what you will be doing but I do know its code black. Normally as Admiral of the flagship I am privy to all sorts of information but I was told this was on a need to know when I asked so I can’t tell you anymore than you know right now, besides you will be traveling on the next thing smokin’ to the nearest Union homeworld, Menosa. The Ragnarok will be your chariot. She’s faster than our jump ships so I’ll take you there. It’s only a couple of hours away.”

  Jerry was used to this kind of situation but for the Admiral to not be able to tell him more was odd.

  “You will be met by someone when you get there with more information. Get your crew together in the meantime,” Perry said.

  “It has been an honor serving with you Admiral Perry,” Brice said as he stood. He outstretched his hand to grasp the Admirals in a firm shake.

  “Take care son. You have been my best boy out there all these years. Hope I don’t run into trouble while you are gone.” He laughed.

  The Admiral saluted his former Commander.

  Brice returned the salute.

  ***

  The dropship rattled like it was going to disintegrate upon reentry. Why, Dax wondered to himself, did they put us on this rickety old hunk of junk? Did they want them to die? It was the scariest ride he had had on a dropship. He sweated profusely from the heat, his heart raced. He fully expected a hull breach to suck him out of the ship as it broke apart.

  Hirusho looked across at Dax. He shared his thoughts but did not show them outwardly. He thought Dax looked extremely pale. He half expected him to lose his lunch. The rattling quieted and was replaced by the groaning and creaking of cooling hull plates. Dax breathed a sigh of relief when the pilot announced they would be landing in a few minutes. He really hoped this was this things final trip before being decommissioned. The ship landed, with a slight landing gear mishap that required the pilot to retract the working units and belly land the craft. Fortunately it was a Vertical Take Off and Landing vehicle.

  After they disembarked the crewmates loaded into a transport that would take them to the main Union facility. The smell of fresh, unfiltered, unprocessed air was welcome. They were taken by their escort to a conference room in the main complex. He informed them that they would be here until the others arrived and he exited the room. After the escort left they talked amongst themselves.

  “Does anyone else find this a tad bit weird?” Daxton asked the rest of the group as he looked around the immense conference room.

  “Indeed.” Sotaki replied.

  ***

  The Ragnarok exited its FTL window far outside the orbit of Menosa. A ships gravity distortion could severely damage other ships or structures in space when opening a window, or in close proximity to a planet it could damage structures on the ground and disrupt the atmosphere. It was speculated that if a large enough ship opened a window inside a planet that it could destroy said planet as the gravity well closed. In order to avoid problems jump ships had windows assigned to them, therefore it was highly unlikely to collide with another ship. The Ragnarok being one of the largest ships had a window farther outside the orbit than most.

  Onboard Commander Brice finished getting his team ready to travel to the planet. His six man team would be leaving within the hour taking a dropship fully loaded with gear as per their orders. For years this ship had been his home he had never contemplated leaving. Now he found himself having feelings about it. Jerry wasn’t one for feelings. He had been hurt many times growing up. Since his father’s death he spent most of his time on some sort of mission for his father’s approval. He always hoped his dad would be proud of him. It was an ever present driving force in his life. Everything he did he asked himself how his father would feel about how he handled the situation, it made him ever more critical of his performance than even the toughest Drill Sargent. He wondered if his dad would approve of the feelings he had about leaving the ship. He decided his father would have told him to man up and stop thinking such nonsense, he had a job to do. His father had always been about duty and honor. The commander busied himself with final
prep not trying to think of it as leaving permanently.

  As his team loaded the last of their gear the Admiral entered the hangar bay. Everyone stopped and snapped to attention at his presence.

  There was Chaz. He had dark, deep-set eyes with an intense gaze, a strong chin and a sharp jawline, a prominent but narrow nose, short dark hair, and defined cheeks. A serious, deadly looking expression that said I am your worst nightmare. He wasn’t a hulk but he was solid and well cut.

  Boumont was six foot two, buzzed sandy hair, round face with babyish features. He had a deep baritone and a quick laugh. He was the comic relief in the group. When they were neck deep in fecal matter he was the one to say how sweet the smell. He took the edge off the otherwise professionally stale air of the group. He had grown up happy with two well-adjusted parents that never took anything serious.

  And finally Fabulous Fabian Nein. He was full blooded German. Blond hair, blue eyes, strong jaw. The crew picked on him because he was a pretty boy, Fabulous. Always handsome and clean. Girls nearly swooned when he passed. He operated as he looked, cool and deadly efficient, in the mud or in the sheets.

  They all stood facing the admiral with a salute.

  “At ease men,” the admiral told them. “I see you are about ready to go. I just came to see you off.”

  “Thank you Sir,” Brice said to him. “It has been an honor.”

  “The honor was all mine Commander. You are the finest soldier I have ever commanded. Your father would be proud,” the admiral said. He knew of the Commanders plight. He knew he struggled with approval he would never get from his father. He hoped it would help him feel better about it. He had taken him under his wing and had tried to be a father figure of sorts to the young Brice. “Have a safe journey son. I know you will kick ass at whatever the president has in store for you.”

  “Let’s roll out crew,” he told his teammates. He felt tears welling up and he would not allow this man to see him tear up. He pushed those emotions away. His team all stood at attention and saluted the Admiral.

  “HOOAH!” they shouted in unison.

  “Dismissed!” the admiral shouted back.

  The men piled into the dropship and took their positions. Once seated and strapped in the Commander gave the thumbs up to the pilot.

  “Good to go,” he spoke into his commlink.

  The dropship fell away from the Ragnarok and engaged its engines. It rocketed towards Menosa, orienting itself for atmospheric entry.

  “Commander, any idea whose ass needs kicked on Menosa?” Boumont asked.

  “None,” he responded over the roar. “I’ll know when you know.”

  The capital of the Union had been established on a world the Union races had settled together equidistance from all home worlds. They named it Menosa, the Bvaltari word loosely translated as “unified”. He had spent a lot of time there while at the academy. It was the home of the council and president as well. Both races settled Menosa in a joint design venture. The world was built from the ground up using technology and architecture from both races to make it a truly unique but familiar place to all.

  The dropship descended through the clouds. Only the pilot and copilot could see the breath taking view of the capital city. Beautiful ornate buildings, sweeping spires, floating gardens, all testaments to the architects of many races coming together in one cooperative venture. The dropship came up on final approach to the landing field where a transport waited to carry the teammates and their gear to the main complex of Union headquarters. It touched down gently and the whine of the engines died down as they were throttled down.

  As the dust settled the hatch opened and the crew began the task of unloading their gear and moving it quickly to the transport. A lone non-descript man near the transport approached Jerry.

  “Good afternoon Commander Brice. My name is Jennings. I will be taking you to your final destination if you will come with me,” the man said as he extended hand gesturing towards the transport. “My men will load your gear.”

  The Commander nodded. He motioned for his men to enter the transport. It was an elongated oval shape with doors that opened into a stairway for entry. It had large windows down the side offering a grand view to passengers. The engine hummed.

  “I know you are anxious to find out exactly why you are here. You will find out soon. We have to meet with the rest of the group before you are briefed on the situation,” Jennings told the Commander.

  “Is this a large operation, are we protecting the president or something?” Jerry asked.

  “No...We can’t talk here. You will find out soon,” Jennings reiterated.

  They still hadn’t slept and a mere four hours ago they were soaked and muddy on a faraway world but his team was upbeat and excited he could tell. Time was always a problem for Razors. It was disorienting for most beings to travel from planet to planet where the length of days were not likely to coincide. The planet they had just been on during their training op was dark and cold. It was deep fall and about two in the morning when they left. Here on Menosa it was creeping up on noon in a thirty hour day in the spring.

  Space ships across the Union had adopted what was known as Universal Galactic Time. Universal Galactic Time was thirty hours divided into three shifts and was actually set by the clock on Menosa the capital. No matter what ship, wherever, the time was the same. Only when you traveled to a planet did you have variations in weather or day/night cycles. Special Forces operated on the same time as well.

  Time was actually quite a large debate in the beginning of the Union. It was something all races took for granted until cooperating with other species whose concepts of a day meant differences in all aspects of time telling. Hours, minutes, seconds all had different meanings and lengths. The day on the Bvaltari homeworld for instance was actually thirty-one point seven three Earth hours, called Qu’arts. Divided by twenty ters, our equivalent to hours. Only after the adoption of Universal Galactic Time did the argument finally become settled, to a degree.

  The teammates arrived at their destination and were escorted to the conference room where someone else was already waiting. Kale Lokae had been waiting quite impatiently. He was pacing about the room when the others arrived.

  ***

  “What you are about to see and experience are all classified,” the man stated after they were all seated.

  Daxton had been waiting an hour and was anxious to get out of this room. He shifted in his seat because his behind was numb.

  “You have all been selected to participate based on several criteria,” the man said when he felt he had everyone’s attention. “Continued participation will require you all to adhere to the oath you took when given security clearance. A breach of said oath will result in immediate incarceration for and undetermined period of time. Do you all understand?”

  There was a murmur of yeses and ayes from the group.

  “Do you all agree to participate, there will be no going back once you have committed?”

  Another set of murmured ayes and yeses followed. Along with a question from Dax.

  “Do we get to know what we are doing yet?”

  “You will be briefed once you arrive by your new commanding officer. Follow me,” said the escort.

  ***

  “What the hell is that?” Dax couldn’t restrain himself when he saw the wormhole machine. Its large, concentric rings pulsed and electricity played between the line of rings. The sarcasm was evident in his voice, “Is this Frankenstein’s lab?”

  “This,” the escort said. “Is the quickest way to travel from point A to point B.”

  A long skinny craft sat in front aimed down the center of the rings. It appeared to have seating for eight in four different compartments and another identical craft sat behind it.

  “Load up and strap in,” the escort said with a smile. “You are in for the ride of your lives. Enjoy gentlemen.”

  The men loaded into the crafts and strapped in as instructed. The hatches sealed as the
wormhole generator pulsed and flashed ever faster. The first ship was released from its holding clamps to hover above the platform. Without warning the first shuttle shot forward and disappeared into the event horizon of the wormhole at the end of the tube of rings. The second craft was released after a few minutes and it too shot down the ramp to the awaiting event horizon of the wormhole. Both shuttles raced through the twisting, turning tube of space time. The first arrived and was quickly brought around to a safe place as the second shuttle arrived. It joined the other as the first passengers were disembarking. Together again the group was ushered to a conference room by awaiting escorts. They were informed they would be waiting for another group before they would be briefed.

  “Hurry up and wait,” Ensign Deas remarked. “The story of our lives.”

  ***

  Crews worked with what amounted to large hair dryers to melt the ice from Jerry’s shuttle after they arrived at their destination. He was told to be patient that it would only take a few minutes. The ice was melted shortly and the hatch was opened to release him and his companion. The group was escorted to the conference room where the first group was waiting. Daxton immediately recognized the Commander. His brother had died in the line of duty with this man. They had been friends and teammates for years when Dax was still at the academy.

  “Dax!” the Commander obviously recognized him too. “Look at you, an ensign. Weren’t you assigned to Connor’s Voltari?”

  “I was. We were attacked and the Voltari was damaged beyond repair and I have been awaiting reassignment. Sean was recalled to Earth I believe.”

  “This is my crew. You may remember some of them, Chaz, Boumont, and Nein, we were all friends with David,” Brice told Dax.

  Several other faces were familiar to each around the room. They all milled about the room exchanging greetings.

  “Kale Lokae?” Brice Said when he saw him. “Weren’t you assigned to the Solaria with Sean?”

  “I was. I was under his command briefly before he was given the Voltari,” Lokae replied. “Last time I saw you was at his promotion ceremony.”