The Epherium Chronicles: Crucible

by T. D. Wilson

  McCraken stepped into view of the camera, and Hood groaned inside. The man’s eyes were bloodshot and his hair was a mess. His time spent in the cave with Kree over the past few days had not been kind to him. “Well, Kree, as you can see, we are not some impure thing to be expunged,” he said, mocking the alien. “They’re coming just to kill us all, aren’t they,” his voice getting louder. “Just say it!”

  “Calm down, Henry!” Hood ordered. In a small part of himself, he empathized with McCraken. Back home there was a great deal riding on the success of this colony, and any hint of a prolonged conflict could dash any hopes of establishing a new home here or at the other two worlds.

  Jillian tried to break the tension. “Kree. You said that K’rveen was used in a different way in modern times. Has there been any time in recent history that the K’rveen failed?”

  Kree moved closer to McCraken and offered his synthesizer to him, but McCraken backpedaled and moved out of sight of the camera. It was clear to Hood that McCraken was still untrusting of his new cave companion. Seeing his gesture fall flat, Kree turned back to the camera. “Yes, Commander Howard, there was one instance. The Di’tan Shi, a close ally of the N’lan, had encountered a group of simple but territorial creatures. The creatures had built large nests on deposits of Ulat’tim.”

  “Did the Di’tan initiate the K’rveen ritual with the council?” Jillian asked.

  “Yes. The Di’tan, like the N’lan, hold a reverence for all life and entered into K’rveen as a last resort. Unfortunately, the Di’tan could not remove the creatures and the K’rveen was abandoned. The Di’tan were bound by honor to accept them as part of their lives.”

  Hood had a thought. “So the Di’tan and the Shi council considered the ritual settled, since the creatures were merely defending their homes and were not an avid aggressor.”

  “Yes, Captain Hood. This one believes your assessment is correct.”

  Hood hoped his analogy with the Di’tan would apply. “What if the Chi’tan arrived and we were gone? Could this cleansing—or K’rveen, as you call it—be abandoned since the threat is removed?”

  Kree thought for a moment and his head drooped. “If the N’lan had led the K’rveen, the Hal’ta of the N’lan would have claimed the K’rveen over. The situation with the Chi’tan is different. The Chi’tan sent to enforce the cleansing might see this as an affront to their honor and attempt to track down and destroy the threat, wherever they may be.” Kree walked closer to the camera again. “Given the recent hostilities that have existed between the Chi’tan allies and your people, this one fears the Chi’tan will present this as evidence that humans must be taught a lesson for their incursion. This one’s Hal’ta is unsure of this, but the outcome is highly probable, given their influence on the Shi council.”

  Blast! The Chi’tan had him in a box. If they took the colonists and left, the Chi’tan would follow or, worse, strike one of the other EDF outposts. The EDF would retaliate, sparking a whole new conflict where everyone would lose. But if he stayed and fought, he put thousands of civilians at risk—and if he lost, who knew if the Chi’tan would stop here? He hated no-win scenarios, so he had to make sure they didn’t lose.

  Hood turned to Jillian. “Commander, I need you to contact Jonathan and begin a full-scale mobilization for evacuation. We need to get your people off Cygni.”

  “James, you heard Kree. If we leave, the Chi’tan will just come after us.”

  Hood stared into her green eyes. “That’s why you’re leaving and we’re staying behind. If the Chi’tan want a fight, I plan to give them one, but not until your people are safe.”

  “You can’t... You’re not going to...” she protested. “If you think I’m going to sit here and let you sacrifice yourself—”

  Hood stood. “Commander, I’m in command of this mission and the colony is under my jurisdiction. Its safety, and that of its people, is my primary goal, and I have given you a direct order.” He softened his voice. “One I do suggest you follow.”

  Jillian stared into Hood’s eyes. He hoped she could see his wisdom and experience and the boy she’d known so long ago. She let go of her pride, saluted Hood and held her hand in place. “Aye, sir.”

  Hood smiled, returned her salute and then sat back down. “Besides, I have no intention of sacrificing myself, this ship or this crew. I won’t start anything, but if they want to tussle, I’ll finish it.”

  Kree’s high-pitched monotonic voice came over the channel again. “Captain, the Chi’tan warriors are the fiercest amongst all the Shi. If you choose to fight, you will be facing horrific odds.”

  Hood had paid close attention to the section of Wells’s report on the Cilik’ti Bal’ta. They were the warriors, the defenders of the Shi, but though war offered destruction, they were also creators of incredible beauty. They were artists, musicians and the storytellers for each generation. What her report left out in tactics and military information, it made up for it with keen insight into the mind-set and values of many of the warriors of the Cilik’ti. But Kree was right—the Chi’tan’s warriors were fierce, brutal and by many accounts from other Shi, out of balance and lacking some of the creative skills other Cilik’ti warriors maintained.

  “I don’t doubt that, but I have a few of my own pieces to move in this match,” Hood said with confidence. He needed to get the evacuation started soon if they had any chance for his plan to work. “How long do we have before the Chi’tan forces arrive?”

  Kree didn’t answer.

  “Kree, we need to know,” Jillian emphasized.

  Kree turned his head sideways away from the camera. “This one found out about the council vote a short time ago from the Hal’ta N’lan. The Chi’tan are already on the move. This one estimates you have one rotation of this planet before they arrive.”

  “They’ll be here in less than a day!” Hood exclaimed. He tried to wrap all the pieces together from what was happening. The Chi’tan must have put this plan of theirs in motion some time ago, perhaps before the Armstrong arrived. They had to have known he’d come looking for the colonists. How else would they be able to get their people moving in such a short time period? The shuttles could only carry so many. There was no way to get all five thousand colonists off the planet in time. He had hoped they could refit the Magellan and leave, but now even that option was gone.

  “This one is sorry the news did not come quicker,” Kree’s synthesizer said; its light had gone dim again. “Commander Howard, this one is most distressed that our time together will end. This one is thankful for your friendship.”

  A single tear rolled down Jillian’s cheek; more followed. They pooled on the corner of her mouth. “Kree—” her voice cracked, “—it’ll be all right. It’s too early for goodbyes.”

  Hood got up from his seat but didn’t take his eyes off the terminal. “I want to thank you for the information. Listen, I don’t want to put you at any odds with your people over this, so we’ll need to cease any communications for now. Is there anything else you can tell us before we go?”

  Kree bent his rear legs deep and rested his lower body on the ground. “The Bal’ta N’lan have a saying before they engage in combat. ‘Live for life, fight with honor, sacrifice for all.’ This one thinks this might be appropriate.”

  Hood smiled. It seemed some of the Cilik’ti held similar beliefs as humans after all. “Thank you. Can you put Dr. Patton on please?”

  Patton stepped into view. He, too, appeared a bit haggard but had managed better than McCraken. “Here, Captain.”

  “Dr., I’m putting you in charge of evacuating the canyon site and getting all personnel to shuttles for transport.”

  McCraken spoke up from across the room, but Hood couldn’t see him. “Captain, what about me? What should I do?”

  “Whatever the good doctor tells you, Henry. Just make sure you get to your sh
uttle. I wouldn’t want you to get left behind.” His last comment was mean, but at the moment he didn’t care. There was a lot at stake and he didn’t need to coddle him. “Get it done, Dr. I expect to see your people on board soon.”

  “Aye, sir,” Patton responded, and Hood terminated the channel.

  Hood took a deep breath and tried to clear his head. The situation was going to get chaotic soon, and he needed to keep his mind focused. He looked at Jillian. The tough, forthright woman he’d known so long ago was trembling.

  She sniffed and wiped the remaining tears from her face. “James, I’m sorry. I just don’t understand.”

  “Nothing to be sorry for, Jillian,” he said with a comforting tone. “To be honest, I felt much the same way when the war began.” Hood grabbed her shoulders and squeezed. “It’s going to get rough, but you have to trust me. Okay?”

  She nodded and started to gather her things.

  Hood leaned down to his terminal and opened a channel to the Command Deck. Sanchez answered. “I’m on my way up. We’ve got trouble. Sound General Quarters.”

  Chapter Eight

  EDF Armstrong

  Cygni 4 Orbit

  Friday, January 31

  Earth Year 2155

  Captain’s Log, Friday, January 31, 2155. If the Armstrong manages to survive the next twenty-four hours, this might be my only entry for some time. It seems the event all of us here on the ARMSTRONG had hoped to avoid is almost upon us. Kree, the Cilik’ti worker we have in custody, informed us that a Cilik’ti attack force is on its way here. There’s little I can do to prevent a new confrontation with our old enemy. By my estimation, we have less than eighteen hours until they arrive. I hope my crew can finalize preparations and get the necessary rest for what’s in front of us.

  The advance notice provided by Kree and the N’lan was a tremendous help. I’d desired to get the colonists out of system and thereby reduce the complexity of the battle, but there isn’t time. For now, we’re evacuating who we can to the Armstrong and we’ll take them with us if we’re forced to retreat from the system. There are, however, several who’ve volunteered to stay behind. A third of the colonists, some at both sites on the planet, have chosen to pick up arms and join the Marines on the ground—my uncle among them. Personally, I don’t envy them in the slightest. I’ve witnessed the horrors of war in space, but on the ground, a battle’s powerful effect is even more surreal. Each moment, every breath shared with your comrades beside you could be your last. It’s a brave choice the Marines and remaining colonists have made, and I pray for their safety.

  Bringing the colonists aboard won’t be a simple task. I’ve asked Lieutenant Commander Howard to stay aboard and coordinate the evacuation and placement of the colonists on the ARMSTRONG. Even if we did manage to get everyone off planet, we’d be packed to the seams. As it stands, many of the colonists will need refuge. Major McGregor and some of the colonists have found caves that can protect them, but I’m not sure for how long. My aunt has taken the lead along with Caris to move as many supplies and people into them as we can.

  I’ve attached my proposed strategy to defend the colony and the latest logs from this vessel and sent them to Admiral Tramp. I understand he’ll want to rush reinforcements to us as quickly as possible, but the rules have changed. If the Chi’tan or their allies detect any more EDF ships inbound, the fight will escalate and could spread back to our own system. This time with a majority of the Cilik’ti Shi involved.

  After reviewing our fail-safe options, I requested the admiral move whatever forces he can to the relay beacon two full jumps out from Cygni. If we cannot hold and need to retreat, I believe this is the safest area to fall back to and get as many colonists away from this ship as possible. If we’re followed, it’s imperative no other EDF ships engage the Cilik’ti while the ARMSTRONG is involved with any active combatants, even if it’s about to be destroyed. I’ve stressed that all commands be aware and follow that order to the letter.

  This K’rveen cleansing, or whatever it’s called, is rooted deep in Cilik’ti history and it’s my belief that even Kree and his Shi don’t know how this will play out. This is a battle of honor, not just for territory or resources, but one shrouded in malice. The events of the past week have placed this ship in a crucible. The Chi’tan have already struck the match to light the flame underneath us. We must endure the pain that’s to come and break free before the intense heat consumes all that we are.

  No matter how this ends, I want anyone who should read this to know that the ARMSTRONG and her crew stood ready to do what we were asked to do. Defend our people, to sacrifice—even at the cost of our own lives—to struggle against incredible odds and inspire humanity’s spirit so future generations can live on in peace in the harshest of times.

  * * *

  Sanchez jogged down the long hallway from the elevator lift toward the aft shuttle bay and his footfalls echoed on the gray metal floor. He had to hurry and he burst into a full sprint. The next shuttle group was just now refueling for a return trip to the planet, and he still had to change into a flight suit.

  He arrived at the main bay access door just as it opened, and the pilots from the previous rotation filed out. It had taken Sanchez just two minutes to convince Hood to let him go. There was no denying the fact that the Armstrong was short on shuttle pilots. In the given rotation, the shuttles could bring up a few hundred of the colonists at most in the next fifteen to eighteen hours unless more pilots could be added. They needed to increase the rotation. Sanchez reminded his captain three times in their conversation that he was a qualified shuttle pilot. While he could be of use on the Armstrong during the battle, the need to keep the shuttles going was far greater.

  He quickly dressed, grabbed a helmet and jogged out the pilot entry door and into the shuttle bay. There were three shuttles in the bay, and the deck officer waved him over to the one on the far right. Sanchez could see the crews beginning to unhook the refueling hoses from the underbellies of the shuttles and he jogged to his ship.

  “Commander, thanks for helping out,” the tall, skinny deck officer yelled over the loud droning made by the refueling pumps in the bay. “The last group has already flown more than their allotted time. They need sack time or they’re going to crash-land down there. It also looks like there’s some weather coming in near the landing zone. It could be heavy.”

  “Understood,” Sanchez replied with his gloved hand cupped behind his ear in a better effort to hear the man. “Do I have a copilot?”

  The deck officer nodded. “Yes, already on board.”

  Sanchez put on his helmet and entered the shuttle’s pilot compartment. Once inside, he noticed his helmeted copilot, seated in the right side chair, going over the preflight checklist.

  He secured himself into his seat and looked to his left and right as he familiarized himself with the controls. “Do you need any help with the checklist?” he asked the copilot.

  The copilot continued working, “No thank you, Commander. All systems check green and we are ready for engine start once we receive clearance.”

  Sanchez recognized the voice and turned to his regard his copilot. He caught a quick glimpse of red hair inside the sealed helmet and then the luminous blue eyes of Maya Greywalker landed upon him. He issued a quiet sigh. “Lieutenant, what are you doing here?”

  “Same thing you are, sir. Volunteering,” she answered, her voice even and assertive. She closed the checklist booklet and placed it back into its holder beside her seat.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “EDF Security regulations, article twelve, paragraph six states that no command officer shall be allowed into a hostile environment without proper armed security or military escort,” she stated as she leaned back into her seat. “Since the announcement of the possible Cilik’ti attack, Cygni has been placed under hostile restriction. With all the Ma
rines planet-side preparing defenses and no shuttle qualified personnel on my staff, I was the obvious choice for your escort detail.”

  “Really,” Sanchez said, not even trying to mask the sarcasm. He examined her flight suit. “So, if you’re my armed escort, where’s your weapon?”

  Maya tilted her head a little to the right and raised an eyebrow in silent response.

  Sanchez rolled his eyes. “Forget I asked.”

  Maya pressed three buttons on the console in front of her, and the external hatches of the shuttle sealed. “There’s another reason I wished to accompany you.”

  Her statement piqued Sanchez’s interest. “What’s that?” he asked.

  Maya didn’t react. “It seems Mr. Whitaker hasn’t cracked the encryption from the devices we located in the colonists’ communication gear. I still believe this threat to be as severe to our safety as the Cilik’ti. Should we be able to locate the destination of the rerouted signals, I want to be planet-side to react to it quickly.”

  Feeling his ego deflate, Sanchez agreed. “Good to know.” Shifting himself away from the conversation, he spotted the deck officer on the mezzanine. The all clear signal was given, and he started up the shuttle engines.

  The shuttle hummed as the engines came to life. Maya keyed in a sequence on her keypad, and the large bay doors slid open in front of them. Sanchez maneuvered the shuttle across the bay floor toward the doors and out into open space.

  Once clear of the Armstrong, he accelerated the shuttle away from the larger ship and then angled it back down toward the planet below. “Watchtower, this is Icon Ferry One, requesting Cygni approach vector and landing authority.”

  Wells’s voice came over the channel. “Icon Ferry One, you are directed to use vector Foxtrot Zeta Two One. Landing authority is given. Be careful, Commander.”