E.D.F chronicles - The Krenaran massacre.

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E.D.F chronicles - The Krenaran massacre. Page 13

by Ian. J. Smethurst


  The Solarian ships performed a thorough scan of the Liberty. After a short bout of silence, a response came through the speakers. “We are detecting several different species on board, however no Krenarans,” the Solarians asked quizzically.

  “It is a long story; I will fill you in along the way,” the ambassador said smiling.

  “We will tow you to the nearest Solarian repair facility, we have medical teams standing by to treat your injured,” the response came.

  “Thank you,” Kerulithar replied with genuine relief.

  Slowly Michael regained consciousness, and picked himself back up; rubbing his throbbing head his vision gradually cleared just in time to see the comparatively huge silvery crescent shape of a Solarian battle cruiser maneuver into position just ahead of the crippled Liberty, and fire a red beam at the ship. Not knowing what these strange new ships were, he panicked.

  “Jesus, we’re still under attack!” He leapt back into his seat and tried to use the controls again, they were useless.

  “Relax; their friendlies. It’s just a tractor beam; they are giving us a tow,” Kerulithar pointed out. “Don’t you have a similar device?”

  “No; we haven’t developed that technology yet. We use magnetised tow cables,” Michael replied, a little sheepish at having panicked at the shape of that massive Solarian vessel looming just in front of the Liberty.

  “I……See,” Kerulithar said, marvelling at how humanity even managed to get beyond their solar system with such limited technology; however he said nothing.

  Within hours, they had reached the repair facility; Solarian medical teams had treated the worst of their injuries.

  Michael marvelled at how grand the station looked. It was bright silver and shone brightly set against the backdrop of deep space. Its super structures shone as the light from a nearby yellow sun reflected off its numerous surfaces.

  A multitude of smaller vessels flitted to and fro from the massive installation. Some looked like transports, others like warships; there were many different shapes and sizes of vessel. All manner of configurations were present, they couldn’t all belong to the same species, Michael thought.

  He also thought the Solarian ships were equally grand, with their majestic silvery crescent shapes, extended wings and metallic beak; they resembled an old earth catamaran, and had an almost regal look about them.

  This station was however an altogether different beast. Numerous docking arms jutted out from it, some were already occupied by other vessels. The station had thousands of small ‘port hole’ shaped windows dotted liberally about its surface. At the top of the station, multiple communications aerials rose like fragile silver strands reaching up into space.

  “Welcome to the Omicron repair facility and shipyard, one of the largest of all our repair facilities,” Kerulithar announced with pride.

  Michael and Vargev said nothing, they were simply awestruck by the sheer size and magnificence of this massive structure.

  Another beam shot out from another smaller rectangular shaped vessel which aligned itself in front of the battered Liberty; taking the place of the warship which now returned back to its formation.

  Navigation lights from the station shone down upon the severely damaged Krenaran ship, showing up its scorched, fractured hull as it closed with the station. The awful shredded exterior where the main sub-light drive once was could clearly be seen.

  The other three warships now made a graceful turn in perfect arrow formation, before they shot back off into plasma drive, and back out to the border.

  “Where did they go?” Vargev asked.

  “Back on patrol,” Kerulithar answered.

  “What is that ship in front of us?” Michael asked. It looked kind of ugly, not at all like the other Solarian ships.

  “It is a small tug; used for towing damaged vessels,” Kerulithar replied.

  The ship was getting very close to the station, suddenly alarm bells began to ring in Michael’s mind.

  “err……how do we dock this thing?”

  Kerulithar calmly walked over to the console in front of Michael’s chair. It was partly damaged in the attack and the glass was cracked, but was still operable enough that he was able to use it. He pressed a green button, then a white one.

  “The green symbol decompresses the air, and the white one opens the hatch.”

  The tug slowly decelerated to a stop; then released the Liberty and moved away. Almost simultaneously a cylindrical hatch extended out from the station and connected to the open docking hatch of the ship, with a slight shudder the docking hatch was sealed and re-pressurised.

  “Would you like to take a look inside the station?” Kerulithar asked.

  “Hell yeah.”

  The three of them made their way through the smoky, dark, debris strewn corridors of the Liberty to the hatch five decks below them. From there they simply walked onto the station.

  What greeted them was truly astounding. Huge metallic archways graced the ceiling high above the repair area; massive floor-to-ceiling windows looked out at the vessels that glided by the station, as well as those already berthed. Everything was clean and shiny.

  Machines the size of houses with highly complex displays dotted vast walkways at various intervals; several Solarian workers could be seen manning the machinery. Michael hadn’t the faintest idea what they were used for. Along certain areas yet more displays showed a wealth of complicated information.

  Michael stopped at one; studying it, trying to figure out what exactly it all meant.

  Kerulithar caught up to him, “It’s in Solarian script, you won’t be able to understand it.”

  Another Solarian approached them, “I am Solistis, Rulvaa third class, welcome to the Omicron shipyard. The Commander of this facility is most eager to meet you; if you will follow me I will show you the way to his office.”

  Michael and Vargev fell in behind the Solarian stranger. Michael thought he seemed a little stiff compared to Kerulithar, he whispered to Vargev, “what the hell is a Rulvaa third class anyway?”

  “Beats the hell out of me.”

  “I shall check and see if I can get us a shuttle to Solaria,” Kerulithar said as he slipped off down another corridor; his tattered and burnt ambassadorial robe flowing as he walked. While Vargev; Michael and the Solarian officer continued toward the Commanders office.

  Soon enough the three of them had arrived, large ornate windowed doors automatically slid open, and the two humans stepped inside, Solistis did not follow them in however and remained outside.

  It was a wide spacious office with a row of large windows which looked out at the stars, and the hive of activity buzzing outside the station. A large oval desk with several chairs arrayed around it pervaded the room; a host of status reports cluttered the desk, sat at it was another Solarian, dressed in a finer uniform than what Solistis wore, it was predominantly light grey, with deep red embellishments on it; several of what appeared to be medals hung from the aliens chest.

  “Welcome Terrans, I am Commander Ralavas; Commander of this facility. It is an enormous honour to have you here; you are the first Terrans to have actively sought out Solarian space. We have prepared quarters for your stay; however I would like to know just how you did it?” The Solarian officer asked.

  “Did what?”

  “Managed to capture a Krenaran ship, and then make it all the way to Solarian space.”

  “It is a long story,” Michael replied, trying to gauge whether Ralavas was really interested or just attempting to interrogate them.

  “Enlighten me,” The Commander said; his long blue fingers forming a pyramid as he leaned forward in his chair.

  There was a tense pause, both Michael and Vargev studied the Commander intently before asking, “why do you want to know, this is not an interrogation is it?”

  The Solarian laughed. “No, no, such practices were banned decades ago.”

  Michael and Vargev both felt a little easier at hearing this.


  “One of our colonies was attacked by the Krenarans, I was stationed on a ship sent to investigate; Major Vargev here was already on the planet when the attack came.”

  Michael paused, taking a breath.

  “I was part of a landing party sent from my ship, however the ship was destroyed in orbit not long after we arrived on the surface, and I was stranded on the planet. The Krenarans also attacked the landing party I was with, and I was the only survivor.”

  He allowed Commander Ralavas a moment, as the Solarian listened intently.

  “Major Vargev here took me in; however we were captured trying to rescue some human slaves and brought aboard a Krenaran ship, we were placed in detention cells where we met your ambassador, Kerulithar.”

  He gave another pause for emphasis.

  “Major Vargev managed to make a crude weapon and we escaped, we managed to make it to the command centre, where we shut off the oxygen supply to all other decks except the command centre and the detention facility. We rescued Kerulithar and with his help and knowledge, we managed to make it here.”

  The Solarian commander turned to Major Vargev, “and how was it you were not captured on the planet, Major?”

  “I am a member of a specialist unit called the E.D.F commandoes; we carry a different weapon called an Armschlager heavy machine gun. It’s old fashioned; but it does a heck of a lot of damage, and they seem to be vulnerable to it,” he began.

  “My unit managed to fight their way out of the main attack and then went underground. We began launching guerrilla attacks against them; freeing slaves, destroying communications centres, and generally making life as difficult as possible for the Krenarans until help arrived. And that’s when we found Michael Alexander here.”

  “An incredible story!” The Commander exclaimed aloud, “normally I wouldn’t have believed it, except here you are; a living testament; with a captured Krenaran ship in your possession as well. Somehow the two of you have fought a far superior enemy, were captured, escaped, and took control of one of their ships, and made it all the way here, to Solarian space; alive!” Ralavas said with genuine wonder.

  It made both Michael and Vargev feel uncomfortable, “it was just what needed to be done.”

  The Solarian commander walked toward the door and motioned for Solistis to re-enter the room. “Solistis here will show you to your quarters, I am sure you are very tired and hungry, so we have also prepared some terran food for you, though our database is somewhat limited on terran foods, however I think you’ll find what we have satisfactory.”

  “Thank you Commander,” Michael and Vargev said in unison.

  Solistis escorted them to their quarters; when they entered, they found they were pleasantly surprised. There were soft comfortable looking beds; a large seating area overlooked a window looking out into space, where the occasional transport drifted past.

  There was a large rectangular table which contained a buffet of human foods. Some of which was Chinese, there were sandwiches, drinks, and cakes. All were arrayed in a mish mash fashion, but Michael and Vargev forgave the disorganisation and ate as though their lives depended upon it. After four days of ration packs and horrific Krenaran food; they were simply glad for some food that tasted good for a change.

  Finally both Michael and Vargev chose what beds they were sleeping on; and exhausted from their ordeal they slowly settled down to the best night’s sleep they had had in a long time.

  Next morning they awoke to the sound of a door chime ringing. Groggily Michael opened his eyes; rubbing them he quickly donned some clothing and headed for the door, slowly it opened and Kerulithar entered.

  “I have managed to procure us a shuttle to Solaria,” he said excitedly.

  “How long a trip is it?”

  “It is two days travel from here.”

  “When do we leave?” Vargev asked as he awoke.

  “Within the hour.”

  “What about food?” Michael asked.

  “There is a small food synthesiser aboard the shuttle, and you have time for what do you call it………” Kerulithar said, desperately trying to think of the word.

  “erm…breakfast!” Michael corrected for him.

  “Yes, breakfast.”

  “I hope your breakfasts are more like the food we had last night and not like that crap we ate on the Liberty,” Vargev said as he got dressed.

  “No! Solarian food is much more palatable,” Kerulithar laughed.

  The two men finished getting dressed, washed, and headed out to a large wide, canteen area. There, tables and chairs were arrayed; along one wall, several food synthesisers stood in a row. Near to the exits there were recyclers, where the finished food remains and the crockery themselves were converted back into their constituent molecules and fed back to the food synthesisers for the next user.

  Many Solarians were there ordering food and generally milling around; chatting to one another and giving curious looks to these strange, small humans.

  Michael and Vargev felt like they were in a hall of giants amongst the lanky near seven feet tall blue-skinned aliens.

  Kerulithar once again explained what was on the menu of the food synthesisers, and both Michael and Vargev ordered a bread like breakfast very similar to large fruit flavoured croissants.

  The Solarian food was indeed good to eat; Vargev even had seconds before they finished their meals and headed to the shuttle hangar a short while later.

  The hangar was huge, and illuminated along both walls, there were dozens of other shuttles and sleek advanced looking fighter craft arrayed across the hangar floor.

  Kerulithar had gone on ahead. “Over here,” He beckoned as he stood near one of the shuttles about thirty yards from them.

  The shuttles were also sleek, silver coloured, and bullet shaped. Two almost mandible like protrusions on either side of the small craft, looked like small wings angled downwards.

  “How will the shuttle get there if its two days journey to Solaria,” Michael asked, as he inspected the shuttle.

  “Our shuttles are equipped with a small plasma drive unit. However they are nowhere near as fast as our battle cruisers or escorts of the fleet,” Kerulithar replied.

  The Solarian pressed a recessed control on the rear of the shuttle and a small boarding ramp extended, simultaneously a rear hatch opened and the three of them went aboard. Inside it was cramped yet surprisingly comfortable.

  There was a large single display with complicated Solarian controls and three large windows to the front, a second small display hung from the ceiling just above the central window.

  Fortunately there were three chairs, one for the pilot, another for a co-pilot and a third for a passenger situated behind them and off to the port side of the ship. To the starboard side of the shuttle there was a very small room, with just a single bed which took up half the available space; an overhead storage locker, and a small food synthesiser.

  Kerulithar touched a few controls on the main display, the hatch closed, and the shuttle began to power up.

  Gradually it began to levitate as the gravitic engines kicked in with a gentle whine; he spoke into the display in his native Solarian language, and the hangar doors began to slowly open.

  The shuttle accelerated, and the small bullet-like craft glided gently out into the star lit blackness of space. Smoothly it glided past the various docking arms that jutted out of this side of the station, and past the myriad of ships that frequented the facility.

  Once clear of the station and all the surrounding traffic. Kerulithar powered up the plasma drive, and the tiny craft jumped into its own tiny plasma wake and was gone.

  Over the course of the journey, Kerulithar taught Michael and Vargev the basics of how to control the shuttle; allowing all three to take turns between piloting, and resting.

  The journey passed relatively uneventfully; there was a small Ion storm which they managed to skirt around. And exactly two days later the shuttle arrived in orbit of the Solarian homeworld, Solar
is IV, and the capital of the Solarian Confederacy.

  The glow emanating from the massive red giant sun of the Solaris system bathed the planet in a red-orange glow. At the same time Michael and Vargev noticed the sheer number of ships going to and fro, there were dozens of them, from smaller inter-system freighters to the battle cruisers and smaller escort craft of the Solarian fleet, to huge star liners carrying thousands of tourists. Not to mention the multiple orbital facilities, stations and satellites that en-circled the planet.

  “Are all your planets this busy?” Michael asked.

  “No, Solaria is one of the most important planets for trade and tourism in the known galaxy, it is actually rather quiet at the moment.”

  Michael laughed incredulously, I’d hate to see it busy then, he thought.

  “How do you keep track of all the visitors?” Vargev asked.

  “Why would we wish to? All species in-bound to the planet go through a series of highly sensitive scanners, any weapons or items that may pose a threat to the populace are confiscated and destroyed. The person is escorted to a holding facility in orbit until a vessel from his race arrives, then he is instantly deported off the planet,” Kerulithar said as he pressed a control on the panel in front of him, again, he spoke into this panel in his native language. “Aliaris foreth ganost alothios.”

  After a slight delay, there came a reply, and the shuttle began to descend into the atmosphere.

  “What did you say?” Michael asked.

  “I was asking for landing clearance, we have been cleared at pad B on the Allathas spaceport.”

  “Can anyone live on your planet?” Vargev asked.

  “Of course, but only a very rare few of the other races actually do; mainly wealthy businessmen who trade with Solarian colonies, a few rich celebrities have property here also.”

  “Why so few?” Vargev asked interested.

  “Mainly cost. Interstellar travel can be an expensive business, especially when used for private use; also the property prices on Solaria are extremely high.”

 

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