THE ENDLESS DARK OCEAN_A space epic that will change the history of the universe

by Boris Mosso

  In a matter of seconds, they would leap into the evacuation fleet’s coordinates, located at one light minute from the war fleet at that instant, distance swiftly reducing by the speedy movements from the war groupings, which also went towards Cratias.

  Gander touched the window with the palm of his hands before settling for the constrained quantum leap.

  5 - Forced Separation

  The small spacecraft moved away from his Vector among the first rows of the Espacian Fleets leading the way, exactly behind the Black Star and in between another thousand smaller war spaceships having diverse shapes, sizes and abilities, which had the mission of escorting and supporting the larger spaceships or spacecrafts, at the time of the confrontation. The so called Flantart and Tubulars. The largest fleet models.

  Lena still couldn’t assimilate what had happened a few minutes ago, when she was still Captain of the powerful Espacian combat spaceship.

  She felt as if a bucket full of cold water was emptied on her head at the same time when the thirtieth battle group’s General Commander, contacted her with immediate and irrevocable orders. It was the first time she spoke privately with the High Officer, leading the wonderful combat group. He informed her briefly about the removal of her command and the reallocation to Espacias Council’s spaceship, in the evacuation fleet. His first Officer was being promoted to Captain and she should board as soon as possible, a smaller transport spaceship waiting in the hangars. Ever since her surprise and astonishment, she wanted to know what was happening. The High Officer tersely informed her that she had ten minutes to leave the spaceship, as a response, forcing her to remain completely quiet about her destitution. Before attempting to respond, the General Commander shut the communications off.

  Devastated, she imagined her crew’s reaction upon finding out of her removal and just a few hours before leaping into the Vintar Constellation.

  Distressed, she searched in her mind trying to find something that could have led to such drastic measures.

  Little by little, a mixture of anger and helplessness began to control her feelings, like few times in her life. Upon remembering that her personal belongings would still be in her rooms, she had to contain herself in order not to kick the pilot’s front seat. Then, noticing her and realizing she didn’t know her, she spoke authoritatively to her:

  —Do you understand what’s happening here? You’re not part of my crew.

  —No, Captain Lena, I don’t belong to your old spaceship. I’m a hunting spaceship’s pilot.

  The comment about the old spaceship, hurt her to the deepest corner of her soul, but likewise, she abstained from replying rudely. She didn’t know what grounds she was stepping on anymore and who was who in this new and mysterious scenery in which her life burst into.

  She studied the pilot for a few seconds diagonally from the side, discovering her flashy red hair cut into a well-formed mane, which meticulously followed the line from the outline, which framed firm features.

  She took a glimpse of her bright very light baby blue eyes and her cheeks dotted with freckles, which gave an almost childish air to the small Officer. Despite that, her strong and firm tone of voice, showed that she was far from being a helpless little girl.

  —What’s’ your name?

  —I’m Elenda, second class hunting spaceships’ Officer.

  Suddenly another classified communication came in, and a holographic spread before Lena, without waiting for her to answer.

  —Captain Lena, greetings.

  Surprised once more, by an imposed communication, she barely had a second to straighten out in her seat. Lena was about to reply rudely, but she noticed on time, that the individual in the tridimensional screen was dressed in apparel belonging to the secretive and guarded personnel from the powerful Espacian Systemic Council support. He was a high rank Officer, without a doubt.

  —Greetings to you too…

  Captain, we are sorry about the abrupt transfer. We haven’t had the chance to handle other formalities but know that this invitation involves a higher purpose.

  —You’re saying, invitation?

  —It’s a way of saying it… We urgently needed you in the Systemic Council’s spaceship.

  —Have I perhaps made any serious mistake?

  —No, please, on the contrary, you have been selected for your superlative abilities, for something different than your normal obligations.

  —We are a few hours away from leaping into battle in the Vintar’s Constellation… Is there something currently more important in the Astral Galaxy?

  —We know it.

  —What do you need from me?

  —It’s not about what I want. After your arrival to the Council’s Flantart, you’ll meet with Espacias’ First Counselor.

  —I can’t believe it! Lusten De Kraun will talk to me? But, why?

  —Is his place to answer that.

  —Will I go back to my spaceship’s Command?

  —No. Please don’t talk to anybody on your way there. See you soon.

  —It’s my spaceship… I…

  The communication got cut off without waiting for her response, just when she had a distant view of all the Espacian War Fleet in its huge grandeur.

  The Officer’s brutal response about her immediate future, shattered her soul. They were passing by a Vector then, barely emerging from hyperspace.

  —Captain Lena… Did you see that Vector?

  —Which one…?

  —The one that just passed on the side. Its codes identified it as Admiral Tronius’ Vector; we came across with his personal spaceship, impressing… Nobody is going to believe me.

  Lena, who remained sunk in deep and bitter confusion caused by the striking words from the unshakeable bureaucrat, didn’t pay the least attention to Elenda. The last word made her shake her head, while she sunk her face between her shacking hands.

  At a distance, of one light year away, the small bright spot was visible, which was Cratias. The enormous rings of millions of kilometers long, could be seen in plain sight, under the war spaceship’s formation.

  Far away, the war fleet seemed to bid farewell deeply saddened.

  Afterwards, she didn’t see anything else due to the small glare caused by the hyperspace leap from its compact transport spaceship.

  When she opened her eyes, it was another very different and disorganized vast array of spacecrafts, slowly circulating in front of her small exterior window. It was the evacuation fleet, organizing themselves to begin the programmed leaps to an unknown location for almost all of them.

  By her seat’s left side, the gigantic multi colored rings of the Cratias giant, filled now half of the vision field, spreading pervasively behind the evacuation fleet until it was out of sight.

  Then she didn’t pay much attention to the outside performance. Little by little, hopelessness ended up invading her soul, such winter mist.

  She had her life under control before, still few ours from leaping at what was announced as the biggest war confrontation ever seen in the Astral’s Galaxy history, which had dark predictions for its results; even so, she knew what to be prepared for, what to expect from her crew, from her spaceship and from the combat tactics learned and practiced during her entire career.

  Ultimately, an inner voice predicted the unexpected and uncertain beginning, of something significant in her life; however, she sensed that it wasn’t any good.

  6 - Trendar’s Spaceship

  After zooming out from hyperspace, Tronius found himself before a touching landscape. Countless epic size spaceships remained static and deployed in multiple three-dimensional groupings in the space’s emptiness.

  There were thousands of impressive Tubulars and Flantart’s spaceships, disappearing in plain sight into an imaginary horizon, as far as his vision allowed him to see.

  In front of those flying mountains’ endless formations, thousands of medium size combat spacecrafts, like the Vector or the Black Star type, three hundred meters long destro
yers, formed in a row simulating endless paths. Thousands of small robotic spaceships patrolled between the huge space structures. They moved like insect swarms around the huge beasts peeking out from a massive and dark swamp.

  Almost all Espacian military abilities built in the past five hundred years or even before then, was what was in front of his eyes.

  His Vector performed the last approach to the Trendar, the fleets’ flagship. From the command bridge, Tronius couldn’t stop from admiring the oval balanced lines going around from stem to stern, the sides of the war structure having five kilometers of wingspan, type Flantart, flanked by enormous cannons retractable masts which could discharge plasma impulses or high-density laser shots. The masts remained hidden now, leaving a smooth and dark surface on display.

  The stern was cut into two gigantic clamps, forming few arcs that protected the robotics massive exit into a combat hypothetical front.

  Meanwhile, Tronius’ mind reviewed the information delivered by Miseran, the mysterious and lapidary Scardian messenger, and on the other hand, he understood that he couldn’t give the problem greater attention than to the invaders undercover spies. Calculating sorrowfully, that there was still a huge risk of suffering sabotages. One of his main fears, was to see some Flantarts or Tubulars explode in the middle of the spaceships’ deployment, moments before the prime leap maneuver which would transport entire fleets to the Vintar Constellation.

  Tronius’ spaceship went into the Flantart, causing the unnoticeable vibration from the holding energy curtains of the atmosphere behind them. Once the spacecraft came down, an elevator placed him on the striking hangar’s deck. Already with his feet on land, he briefly greeted the flagship’s Captain and then Tribar. He waited for him with his hands behind his back and surrounded by other high Officers at the foot of the stairs, dressed in their operations’ blue uniforms. Without wasting time, Tribar stood at the Admiral’s side.

  Tribar was an older man, very similar to Tronius, although looking somewhat bigger and worn out. His pleasant features inspired respect in the charm that his penetrating brown eyes produced with his eyelids halfway shut, almost permanently. He was a man with great intelligence and a rigid mental structure. Qualities that with the passing years lead him to his high fleet’s position.

  They both climbed into a double levitator which immediately took them to the hangar’s exit. The other Officers, after greeting him respectfully, climbed in other bigger levitators and followed them.

  The group of technicians and pilots gathered in the huge hangar, interrupted their work watching them going by. They stood upright, with their arms on their sides and looking straight ahead. After the quick passing of the levitators, they went back to their duties, not without articulating multiple and nervous comments beforehand.

  All the crew members remained in top alert status during fifty uninterrupted hours, and the stress also arose to its maximum in their spirits and minds.

  —Admiral Tribar, the planet was completely evacuated; nobody’s left in our beloved Espacia.

  —We know, Admiral Tronius.

  —The conversation with the Scardian messenger was very clear and extremely worrisome.

  —Yes, it is. We never thought that this would come into the very own doors of the highest military power known in the galaxy; the Atirov Empire.

  —There’s no worthy Empire for these invaders, Tribar. The Atirov’s powerful and stubborn directors, still can’t believe that some combats are being waged in their heliosphere spot, something never seen before.

  —What I don’t understand is why they keep on sending us Scardian messengers? It’s not the first time…

  —They’re allies, Tribar.

  —Yes, I know Admiral. But just now, and after a thousand years without diplomatic relationships or commercial contact… It’s strange that from the more than one hundred allied breeds, they keep on sending us those damn Scardians over and over. It seems like mockery from the Alliance’s High Command.

  —They’re the coalition’s members, like we are. However long the recent coalition has been.

  An uncomfortable pause was produced between both high Officers.

  —Apparently, everything will end in Atirov.

  —Yes, it will, Sir, what are we going to do?

  —We’ll honor Espacia’s Council pledge word to our allies.

  —Very well, everything’s ready; each fleet’s spaceship has your orders and all the crew members remain in their positions.

  At that time, the group of levitators moved forward through a quick transit gallery. They soon rose through an ascent tube of more than eighty meters wide, which would take them to the Control Center stationed in upper levels.

  Some area’s walls were transparent, allowing to watch the hustle and bustle inside the enormous flagship spacecraft.

  Tronius broke the silence.

  —If the Browns take over control of the surrounding space from any planet or colonized satellite, they will deploy their terrestrial armoured forces and the genetically created creatures to exterminate any resistance or unfriendly life, we should prevent it. We’ll see terrible massacres again, just like it happened in other worlds. We already saw the terror that the prisoners must suffer… poor beings… How are our crew members?

  —The crews aren’t afraid, Admiral. They are anxious to uphold our allies. They remember that the Aritov Empire aided us during the Scardian invasions. They look forward to repaying us, and I do too.

  —We’ll try.

  —Yes, Sir. The tenth terrestrial forces battle group, the Tenth of Tubulars, arrived from the Canidas Constellation a few minutes ago. We left an old incursion unit there, escorting one Tubular and one Flantart.

  —I know you disliked leaving the helpless ones to our safeguarded ones from Canidas, but we need those terrestrial forces with us. The Tenth of Tubulars is the battle group which has performed the greatest number of real deployments. We need their experienced terrestrial forces’ Officers and the fifty million RMODs in our battle formations. Their STFs are the most experienced in the entire fleet and Fran De Lust is one of my best General Commanders.

  —I know, Admiral… Billions of lives from different breeds, will be defended at any cost by the two million STF’s transported in our four thousand Tubulars. It’s amazing we were able to assemble such number of spaceships.

  —There are forty million Command Officers from the RMOD’s squads.

  —I know, we will need each one of them if the Browns arrive to Atirov with their entire fleet. I hope they catch up with us to support our terrestrial forces’ allies.

  —No one in the galaxy has ever defeated their Armoured Entities in terrestrial combat in these six months, and not to mention their huge dominance in space.

  —We’ll give them a terrible fight if they dare set foot on any planetary or lunar surface in Atirov.

  —We should evaluate the risks and take decisive action, but without letting our guard down. Powerful and confident fleets have launched with all their might, paying a high price for it.

  —It’s true. Their spaceships are very sturdy, and their weapons are devastatingly precise.

  The transports reached higher speed while going towards the exit from the intermediate levitator’s chutes, which lead them directly to the spaceship’s command and control bridge. From there, Tronius would command the entire fleet.

  —Tribar, you know that a good part of the Espacian fleets were resting unoccupied. Spinning in orbit around the satellites from the external planets, practically abandoned there. Here in Cratias itself, five entire battle groups rested, orbiting unoccupied during hundreds of years up until today.

  —The Espacian’s roving fleets.

  —It had been a long time since I heard that expression. Our roving fleets, how you call them, have been built continually during hundreds of years. I thank the wise and old Ancestors from the Systemic Council, who made that determination by ending our last big war five hundred years ago. When no risk
nor apparent threat was foreseen for the Solarian System in the future.

  Although it hasn’t been easy to find the necessary crews to cover all the positions. Counting the logistics’ command, they were surprised after proving the existence of the numerous battle groups orbiting Cratias and the ones that had been sent to the systems’ exterior area. They were many centuries in which nobody paid much attention to the computerized installations. It was without a doubt, a nice and timely surprise. Now, our old Officers have gone back to service, as millions of pilots were required.

  —I know, Tribar, there are more than thirty million leader pilots, for one thousand five hundred million robotic spacecrafts, in five thousand Flantart spaceships. We need them like water, but it pains my soul, thinking of the thousands of them that will die today… maybe millions… It’s an unbearable idea.

  Tribar didn’t know what else to say and he preferred to keep quiet, he also suffered silently for his missing son, and for the number of Espacians that would lay their lives down defending the Solarian System and free civilization’s survival from the galaxy. Including all those primitive breeds and totally ignorant about the confrontations that had been fought against this ruthless invader for six months already.

  When they were crossing the huge space structure Control Bridge impressive thresholds, hundreds of crew members present, turned their heads following the Admiral’s arrival; every movement froze at the passing of the retinue who transported the fleet’s top ranks.

  The place was the battle operations’ General Command Center, a command post and strategic control for the entire fleet. There, thousand Officers and operation advisors, analysts and technicians of all types, handled and conducted the high command orders, fully gathered now.

  —Tribar, do we have the current information from the Espacian Foreign Intelligence Office available? Have they found any other undercover? In this critical moment, it would be disastrous for the fleet’s morality, that one of our spaceships would be destroyed or disabled by a gamma-bomb.