It was a promise both his human and alien half could agree on.One Year Later
A pair of muscular legs stuck out of an access hatch, the rest of the polarized plastic-armored man was hidden within the bowels of the Main Converter Circuitry Junction tube on C deck of Engineering.
Through the latticed deckplates could be seen the massive Ship Service Nuclear Reactor, lying dormant four decks below. The machines were waiting for more defects to be corrected in order to begin producing their megawattage for Arcturia.
“Okay, Sahn, hit it,” a muffled voice called from the access hold.
“Aye, sir,” Major Sandra Comaneci acknowledged from the sleek, curved Operations Monitoring Station. Her reflection played little games on the stainless steel as she slowly started turning two dials. Her pale blue eyes rested on three neutron detectors as the delicate instruments started their inextricable rise into the power range.
Nearby on B deck, a group of technicians jumped from a cluster of half opened consoles as energy was suddenly routed into them.
“The least she could do was warn us,” Janice Addams spat, her high-boned Indian features screwed up briefly by the mild electrical shock.
“Perhaps the Major determined that there would be no danger to us,” Ensign Horace Logan reasoned calmly. Until recently, the thin, soft-spoken scientist had been a well-paid instructor of University World, until the Celestial Navy called him off reserve status in order to pay off an education loan.
His calm words took the anger out of her voice. “I hope to Horace that the Commander was right about the location of that overload. Because if he isn’t, we’ll probably be working overtime taking this engine apart again.” Janice picked up her calibrator, dismissed the other two technicians who were still nursing wounded prides, and walked to the railing overlooking C deck and the O. M. station.
Sandra was still watching the neutron detectors, ready to scram the reactors at the first sign of trouble. She constantly glanced over her muscular, yet feminine shoulders, her close-cropped hair barely perturbed by the nervous movements. “Are you all right in there, sir?”
“Fine. I was right. The problems was in the dykstron moderators. How are the neutron detectors?”
“Functioning. We’re still subcritical thought. Should I bring them up to power range?”
“Aye. I’ll keep an eye on things from here.”
More rapidly, Sandra rotated the knobs with an almost joyous exuberance. For the well-built, mature woman, the surge of building power from the hulking S. S. N. R.s was the pinnacle, the ultimate orgasmic experience. A melding between her flesh and the hell fury unleashed in the fission-fusion reactors.
And she, Sandra, controlled every joyous moment.
“We are stable in the power range,” she announced. Sandra wiped a few beads of sweat from her brow. “You should have been an engineer, sir.”
The tall, muscular Negro shimmied out from the access hatch, blinking a bit as his eyes readjusted to the florescent lighting. “Coming from you, Sahn, that’s a compliment,” Commander Juan Carlos Mendez said, wiping lubricant off his gloves and onto his flexible body armor.
Mendez was a handsome man, rugged and muscular, with a lean, angular face that seemed to have been chiseled out of fine marble, his Olympian visage was adorned by a think black beard and complementing moustache. A mass of hair that seemed determined to remain unruly no matter what Mendez did to it.
He walked over to the O. M. station. He looked over Sandra’s shoulder, catching a whiff of the woman’s natural perfume—sweat and deodorant.
“Besides,” he continued glibly. “We can’t have two Chief Engineering officers.”
“Shame about that,” Sandra sighed.
Mendez gave her a double-take on the last statement. In the short weeks that he had known her, those three words had been the closest thing to an admission of affection for something other than the titanic Quasar drive.
He became aware of an unnatural silence amidst the beeps and buzzes of Engineering, as if the woman were waiting for something. Or had Sandra already withdrawn back into her safe world of tachyon equations and warp generators that produced enough power to light a small planet?
“Well, at least we can go off-shore power again, Sahn. Switch over when ready and write up a full report. I’m going to nail some bastard at GSK to a tree for this.”
“I still don’t know how you knew it was the dykstron, sir.”
“The Kingsland experienced similar difficulty. We had to run on batteries all the way from New Paris to Delta Barnard. It took the combined Yardbird and engineering staff two weeks, working around the clock to—”
“Wrruan.“ called an exotic felinoid, wearing a red and blue tunic and dark blue slacks, from the doorway to Engineering. Even in her duty uniform, there was a touch of the forbidden, the sensual, the wild animal about the alien.
“Yes, L’Prawla?” Mendez responded.
“Admiral DeSalle wishes to talk to you personally as soon as possible.”
“Oh, good grief. Doesn’t she know that we’re up to our collective butts trying to get this ship launched again?”
“She said it was an orderr, Wrruan.”
Before Mendez could respond, Janice and Logan walked up. They both saluted Mendez and turned as one to face the Chief Engineer.
“No problems with the engineering computers,” Logan reported.
“The Commander found it,” Sandra said with mixed admiration and jealousy. “Return to your stations.”
“Aye, aye,” the two junior officers answered in unison.
“Tell her,” Mendez finally said. “Tell her that I’ll be in her office in about an hour. Sahn, when can you light off the Quasar drive?”
A wide grin split the woman’s face. “Twenty minutes age, sir.”
“Light her off. If there are any difficulties, contact me immediately. Coming, L’Prawla?”
The two officers walked down the gleaming cylindrical corridor to the travel tube station.
“Ship status, L’Prawla?”
“The astrrogation elements arre prrogrrammed and aligned. All brridge stations arre functional. Engineerring seems to be fully operrational. Main Computerr, and Missile rroom Two could use a few hourr morre worrk.”
“In other words, we’re ready to leave Atmor?”
“Affirrmative,” L’Prawla purred softly as they reached the travel tube station.
Her slitted emerald eyes watched the light that would signal the car’s arrival with almost catlike curiosity.
“Tau Eridani,” D’Aquilla said, gesturing at the pinprick of red-orange light on the mainscreen. “The armpit of the galaxy. Where men are men, women are women, rocks are…”
“Enough,” Vega said sharply. He looked back at Mendez. “Perhaps the intelligence reports were wrong about the Mephistan concentration.”
“Sure they were. And I’m a Caucasian in disguise,” Mendez retorted.
“Well now that you mention it, skipper,” D’Aquilla began before the alert klaxon sounded.
“Combat stations. Vega, what’s coming in?”
“Two warships. Delta class cruiser—Mephistan design. Probably on patrol.”
“Null screens to full power,” Mendez ordered. “Main di-atomic cannon battery on standby.”
“Vessels have spotted us. They are closing in,” Vega reported.
“Major D’Aquilla, ready Avenger Squadron. Stand by to launch.”
“Aye, sir,” the large man said, shouting orders into his intercom. He then took off at a run for the hanger pod.
“Hold your fire, Vega. Let them make the first move,” Mendez said calmly.
Seconds later the null screen repulsed a multi-megawatt laser salvo.
“Fire di-atomic. Destroy them.”
Vega’s hands flew over his console like objects possessed. The forward cannon battery glowed briefly before it discharged its energy into space.
The white beams washed over the hive-like Mephistan sh
ips, destroying the forces holding the warship’s atoms together.
“Scratch two ruddy warships, Commander,” Vega said.
“Remain on alert. First Lieutenant, take us in, full space normal speed.
While Christine complied with the order, the portside access doors to the bridge opened, admitting a dinosaur.
Well not really a dinosaur. He was reptilian, had a mouth full of carnivorous teeth, and enough scales on his greenish yellow body to render him invulnerable to anything short of laser fire.
Yet despite the monstrous appearance, there was an intelligence about him. The calmness of a seeker of knowledge who knew more than most people about the physical Universe, yet considered even his vast store of information a mere scratching of the billion light years of deep surface.
“Good afternoon, Commander,” T-Narn said through the artificial voice box/translator located just above his collar bone. The voice was inhuman in its soft tenor, yet distinctly neutral perfection.
“Same to you, priest T-Narn. I am glad you have decided to come out of isolation.”
“We are at our destination. The sooner we attend to this rescue, the sooner I shall be able to continue to Antares.”
Mendez‘s face grimaced into a frown which quickly vanished as the Eden refinery expanded on the mainscreen.
A metal nightmare, constructed before the fall of the First Alliance as a source of tri-plurainium fuel, and as a bastion against Mephistan encroachment into Or’Dellen space.
It was still a source of tri-plurainium; the fuel that allowed faster than light velocity. However, it was now used by the enemy.
“Wrruan, thrree Mephistan drreadnoughts coming in.”
“Engineering, give me battle speed. Avenger Squadron, prepare to launch. Distance?”
“Two million kilometers,” Vega reported.
“Open fire when ready, Vega. First Lieutenant, stand ready for evasive action. Avengers launch. Do not engage the enemy. I say again. Do not engage the enemy. Head for deep space and come back around using the pincer play. Good luck.”
Aft in the raised triangular appendage known as the Hanger pod, D’Aquilla completed his hurried, but comprehensive checkout of his vessel’s systems. Next to him one of the new people to the 214th, Ensign Loni McCoy. She was large-boned, very athletic, and obviously nervous.
“Say, after the mission, what say we get together in my cabin for some fun and games?”
“I would rather visit the sex surrogate first,” she snapped, adding respectfully: “Sir.”
“It‘s your loss.”
“Avengers launch. Do not engage the enemy. I say again. Do not engage the enemy. Head for deep space and come back around using the pincer play. Good luck.”
“It will be twelve hours before we are in position. Is that guy nuts?” D’Aquilla grumbled while massive cranes moved the gunships into the launch tubes. Condensation formed briefly on the outside windows of the Avengers as air was hurriedly evacuated from the tube.
“Sir,” it was McCoy. There was a peculiar expression on her face.
“The bag is in the compartment on your right, second rack downnnn!”
The Avenger was shot into space by mass drivers of the launching tubes.
As soon as he peeled the back of his face off the chair, he thumbed the intersquadron communicator. “Squadron, this is Flight Leader. Line up on my arse and don’t take your eyes off it until we reach our destination. Do not engage the enemy. Out. You all right now, Loni?”
She nodded once, taking the controls with one hand while wiping the bile from her lips with the other.
“I’m sorry for snapping at you, sir.”
“Forget it, kid. You’ll like my aquabed.”
Loni could not resist a smile as the fifty gunships curved off into the distance.
Back on Arcturia, Mendez heard the figures of the distance between the enemy and his ship shrink continually.
“Fire forward battery,” Mendez ordered to Vega.
Once again, energy leapt across the void, washing over the lead dreadnought. Part of its engineering section vanished, followed by the rest of the ship, in an explosion that damaged the ship flying next to it.
“Arm anti-matter missiles.”
“Anti-matter missiles armed, Commander.”
“Fire.”
A spread of missiles containing twelve kilograms of anti-matter shot into space.
“Now, Vega, hit them at the same time with our cannon.”
The fury released burned out the mainscreen for several seconds.
When the electronic device cleared, only hot plasma floated in space.
“Addams, raise Eden. Inform them that they have one hour to surrender their prisoners, or well will destroy that installation.”
“Rather violent,” T-Narn said aloofly.
Mendez turned sharply. “They started this. We’re going to finish it.”
“I meant no offense, Commander; just making an observation.”
“Understood…“
“Commander,” It was Vega, a note of puzzlement in his voice. “What the ruddy hell is that?”
Mendez instinctively looked at the mainscreen.
Bolts of energy were crackling around the Eden station. A pyrotechnic display that challenged even the brilliance of the recently destroyed dreadnaughts.
“T-Narn, what do you make of that?”
The reptile was already at a computer outlet, using a stylus to punch in information. “I’m reading high gravitational flux; energy level going straight off the scale.”
“An explosion?”
“Negative, Commander. Not the same type of gravity-wave emanation. I suggest evasive action.”
“DeSalle, get us out of here.”
“Thrusters on full reverse.”
“Too late,” L’Prawla shouted as the hand of the unimaginable caught and held the galacticruiser.
Gravity control systems faded for just the briefest of instants, throwing personnel not strapped in across the bridge.
Mendez picked himself off Janice Addams, shouted orders: “Damage control report, L’Prawla. Get Engineering on the horn and tell them to give the thrusters everything they have. We have to break free.”
L’Prawla relayed the orders.
T-Narn, still at the computer terminal thanks to his forewarning, continued to elicit information on the force that held them.
“Tractor field of an advanced design, Commander. It is highly doubtful that this ship could break away even at translight velocity with this field on.”
“In other words, all we’re doing is burning fuel?”
“Affirmative, Commander.”
Mendez walked back to his chair, and thumbed a well-worn button. “Engineering, cut power to engines; maintain null screen and weapon power at all cost.”
“Damage rreported on E and H deck, section one C.M. minorr bulking or waterr tankage. All damage underr repairr. Engineerring rreporrts negative damage. Sickbay rreporrts only minorr injurries.“
“Thank you, L’Prawla. Opinions?”
“We are in a bloody lot of trouble,“ Vega said.
“Thanks you for the in-depth assessment; any suggestions?”
“One Commander; since we are the fly caught by the spider, I suggest that we wait to see what the spider does.”
“Suppose it tried to eat us?” Vega asked.
“Then it can only be hoped that we give it indigestion, Major.”
“Vega, Arm the Vortex Gun and leave it on standby.”
“Sir, at this range we could be trapped by the quantum singularity created by the Vortex Gun.”
“Our prime mission is to take this station out of action. To deny the enemy a fueling base long enough for the Alliance to take further action.” Mendez’s words came out like staccato bullets. He returned to his seat.
“L’Prawla, How long until Squadron is in position to attack?”
“Eleven hourrs, forty-eight minutes.”
“Sir,”
Christine said. “We’re being dragged into the Eden station.”
“Engineering, keep those null screens up at all costs,” Mendez said into the chair arm pick up.
“Commander,” T-Narn called form the computer terminal. “Analysis of the hanger we are being drawn into indicates that it is composed of a material ten times stronger than nytronium. It was not an original part of the station; probably an experiment in metallurgy.”
Only a small part of Mendez’s mind listened to the science officer’s report. His foremost attention was focused on the large maintenance hanger they were being drawn into. His mind shouted that his ship would be far too large to fit in the structure.
A minute later they were inside Eden.
“We lost a coat of paint going in, sir,” Christine said glibly. “No other damage.”
“L’Prawla, order the teleporter room to start changing access frequencies. I don’t want them transferring a bomb into the heart of the ship. Ms. Addams, try to raise Eden again. Identify me, and ask for direct communication with General Dirkmann.”
“Sir?” Janice asked.
“Do it. If Dirkmann hasn’t changed then we might have a chance of getting out of this in one piece.”
“Aye, sir,” the woman signed, obviously thinking her Commander was a madman.
“T-Narn. The Order of A has done work in the resonance frequency of this metal. Correct?”
“Affirmative, sir. Do you wish me to ascertain the frequency of this metal?”
“Yes. And adapt our weapons to operate at that frequency. How long should that take?”
“Commander, you are forgetting the tractor field on this ship. If we break free, our journey would be very short.”
“T-Narn, you let me worry about that. How long?”
“Based on the number of probable frequencies, and the amount of work needed to adapt your weapons—ten hours.”
“Get to work, and requisition any personnel you need.”
“Commander,” Vega said. “Vortex Gun armed. Only the keying sequence has to be punched in.”
“Acknowledged,” Mendez replied.
“Sir,” Janice called out. “Message coming in from Eden. Priority channel.”
“Put it on, Ms. Addams,” Mendez said with a grim smile on his face.
So It Begins (Defending The Future) Page 33