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Worlds of the Never: A book with Dragons, Faeries and Elves, mixed with Science Fiction and Time Travel, for Young Adults and Teens. (Tales of the Neverwar 2)

Page 5

by CJ Rutherford


  Kon was a member of the Magistry, the closest thing to a force of authority-below the Council at least- which existed here in the Lands.

  Thinking about her brother lessened the surprise, as he appeared in the circle at the centre of the room.

  “Marissa?? What’s wrong? I received your summons...OOF!” Her body forced the air from his lungs as she ran into his arms.

  “Thank the maker you’re here, Kon, we haven’t got much time. You have to help me stop him!”

  Kon’s brows furrowed in confusion, “Stop who? Marissa, slow down.” He led his sister across to the couch, but she shrugged his hand away.

  “We don’t have time, Kon. It’s Hallor. He’s going to hurt Gwen.”

  An expression of shocked disbelief appeared on Kon’s face. “No, surely you’re mistaken. Hallor loves Gwenyth as if she’s his own daughter. He wouldn’t hurt her.”

  Marissa grabbed her brother’s hand and placed a small vial of green liquid into his palm. “Then explain this?”

  Kon looked down at the bottle. Marissa felt his tension rise as he used his arts to probe the contents. His expression went from concentration, to amazement, to horror in under a second.

  “It’s poison. I don’t understand. Where did you get this, Marissa?”

  She turned her head right, indicating her husband’s study. “In there, concealed behind a false panel under his desk. It took me hours to find it, and now I’m worried we might be too late.”

  “But too late for what? I can’t believe you think Hallor might be capable of such a thing. Besides, we have the poison…oh.”

  Realization of his mistake was evident on face as he saw the bottle was half empty. “No, he wouldn’t. Marissa, your husband is my friend and mentor. I would know…”

  Marissa cut him off. “No. You wouldn’t.” She reached up and placed her palm on his cheek. “You are too innocent and trusting, little brother, as I have been for too long.”

  His eyes narrowed and he shrugged, but he didn’t disagree. “It’s true Hallor has become exasperated with Gwenyth’s behavior lately. But this? No, I won’t believe it.”

  “Kon, I’m sorry, but I have been hiding some facts from you. I’m sure you are aware of the lectures my husband is capable of?” He shrugged again as she continued. “Well lately I’ve been listening, covertly, as Gwenyth and he were locked in there.” She indicated the study again.

  “Kon, these were not the measured and logical worries of a father for the safety of his daughter. Rather, they have descended into threats of consequences and possible punishment…physical punishment, if she doesn’t comply with his wishes.”

  His eyes widened and he took her hands. “Why didn’t you tell me, Marissa? I might have been able to talk to him, but what makes you believe he might go this far?”

  Marissa sighed as she turned away. “There was another discussion between them last night. It was terrible, Kon. Gwenyth ran to her room in tears afterwards. I tried talking to Hallor, but…I was afraid of him, Kon. I was afraid of my own husband; or afraid of what he’s become.”

  Kon frowned as he reached over to touch her arm. “He didn’t…hurt you, did he?”

  Marissa shook her head. “No, but for a second, I thought he might. Then, he locked himself in his study. He was gone when I got up this morning.”

  Kon stood back. “Do you know what last night’s argument was about?”

  “Yes, Hallor ordered Gwenyth not to assist the Faer. He actually warned her not to go, said she’d regret it, if she disobeyed him. Gwen was adamant, however. But that only fed his anger. In the end, I interrupted. That’s when I thought he might…”

  Kon drew his sister into an embrace. “We must stop this. Do you know where he is?”

  “No, but I know Gwenyth is meeting Amilee at the edge of the forest. They plan to walk together to the Tree…Oh no! He wants to hurt her too. Kon, we must hurry.”

  Kon drew her with him as he entered the transportation circle. Marissa hesitated, but Kon turned to her. “We’ll need help, Marissa. Hallor is powerful, and Maker knows what road into darkness he is following. We need to capture him, so we might help him.”

  Marissa nodded and entered the circle. In a blink of an eye, they were gone.

  Chapter Ten

  Zhibalban Space

  “There it is again, Captain,” said Zlotta.

  Zjokara stood up and walked across the bridge to the sensor station. “Show me, please.”

  The newly promoted Sub-Commander brought up the holo depicting the sphere of space surrounding the ship.

  Her ship, the Jeraal, thought Zjokara. It wasn’t new, but it was far from being amongst the older ships in the fleet. It was her first command, and the ship and her crew had already proven themselves.

  News of the collapse of the Zhibalban empire had spread through the sector faster than Zjokara could have imagined.

  The pirates had been the first to arrive, their ships sneaking through the holes in what remained of the sensor net. Next, came the neighboring systems navies, erstwhile allies who sought to take what they could from a crumbling dynasty.

  Zjokara watched the sphere as Zlotta expanded an area at the top of it. Planets invariably orbited a star on one plane, the elliptic. Anything above or below was normally considered dead space. Why should anyone want to be there, so far away from the planets which were the best source of trade and supplies?

  Someone was there, however. As the view expanded, a ghostly echo appeared. It was intermittent, and if it had been anyone other than Zlotta, she might have dismissed the suggestion of anything being there. As they watched, the contact slid in and out of view. It was moving, but Zlotta extrapolated its path, and she highlighted where she predicted its appearance each time. And each time, it appeared within a few seconds of her estimate. This was not a ghost.

  “It’s no pirate, Captain.” Zlotta craned her long neck upwards to ensure her captain understood. “It’s not going anywhere, just moving around...like a scout.”

  Zjokara snorted, as her nostrils flared and her hands tightened on the back of Zlotta’s chair. She checked the display. They were the only capital ship in the upper east quadrant of the system. The Jeraal and her consorts had just rotated here after a month of blockading Prime, where they had intercepted and destroyed three pirate vessels. The Captain grinned. This was another beast entirely.

  “Send commander Zjirzz in towards Prime. Instruct her to vent anti-matter from the ship’s port nacelle.”

  Zlotta smiled, as she began to see what her Captain intended. The shipyard in orbit around Prime was only semi-operational, but nobody outside the fleet knew this. The return of a crippled destroyer for repair shouldn’t be suspicious. And the fact the return vector she’d specified took the ship over and behind the target was purely coincidental. At least, she hoped the target might think so. The symbol for the destroyer flashed amber.

  “Captain, Commander Zjirzz is declaring an emergency. They are losing anti-matter from their port nacelle. They request immediate repair at Prime station.” Zlotta smiled at the conveyed message. It had been broadcast on the normal encrypted military channels the navy had always used, unlike the previous instructions. All military communications had evolved to an unrecognizable state since the attack. Anything the Walkers might know had been scrapped, and a new system devised. It was hoped it might be so far away from anything the navy had used, it might be undetectable.

  “And the target?”

  “No change, Captain.”

  Zjokara bared her fangs in a smile, but she wasn’t about to rush in. “Zlotta, is there anything else out here? Anything! We can’t afford to lose more of our people.”

  This last sentence was particularly poignant. The priests had decreed no males should ever leave Prime; which was why the fleet was scouring the remains for any survivors. For if a male couldn’t be found, they were a dead race. Curse their beliefs, Zjokara thought

  “Bring sub-commander Zjann in close. Flight con
figuration Gemini.”

  “Yes, Captain.” Zlotta sent the encoded message to the small scout ship, ordering it to approach to docking distance.

  She knew the captain’s thoughts. Zlotta had been with the captain from the clutch. They were egg sisters, having hatched within seconds of each other. Zjokara was a sister, aunt, and mother, as were most of the members of this crew. She smiled in anticipation.

  Chapter Eleven

  Zhibalban space: Upper East Quadrant

  “Have they seen us?” K’raad’s voice shook. His face blanched as he watched the screen. Three ships were within range...too close within range, he was sure, but the commander assured him this ship was invisible.

  “No, sir. Look, this one is clearly damaged, perhaps from our earlier attacks.” The destroyer was following an erratic course towards Prime, currently above and in-system, in relation to them.

  The commander puffed his chest out. Why, K’raad had no idea. He hadn’t been involved in any of the ‘earlier attacks’. If he had been, he’d be dead, along with the rest of the incompetent fools.

  “And these two are clearly being piloted by cretins.” He indicated the cruiser passing across their wide orbit of the star, and the scout vessel which sat out system close to the horizon limit.

  “They barely avoided a collision. In fact, I think they might have actually made contact. The cruiser is moving away from the scout vessel, and away from us.”

  K’raad watched as the larger of the two ships moved away; downwards in relation to them. It never occurred to him they were moving to positions which covered every possible course they might take.

  He wiped the palms of his hands on his jacket. Why am I even here? He thought. It had seemed a good enough plan at the time. To be the first senior member of Sanctuary’s new government to set foot on Zhibalba Prime, and reopen the sealed portal, would raise his profile to pre-eminence among his peers. At the moment, however, his ambition was giving him palpitations.

  The task force en route from Sanctuary would rely on them to relay intelligence on the remnants of the Zhibalban Navy. It was imperative they stay hidden, for if the Zhibalbans knew an attack was imminent, his forces would walk into a trap.

  K’raad breathed deeply and relaxed in his chair. All three ships moved away from them. The commander might be an idiot, but it was clear he knew how to pilot a ship. He closed his eyes, imagining the looks on his peer’s faces when he stepped through the portal.

  “Sir! We’re being hailed!” shouted one of the communication techs. “It’s the destroyer, sir. They’ve altered course to intercept!”

  K’raad felt the warmth flow down his legs, before he bent over and threw up on the deck.

  The commander grimaced as the smell of urine and vomit filled the bridge. It took all his will to nod his head to the tech. “On speaker!”

  A female voice sounded over the internal speakers. She spoke softly, but the menace in her tone was unmistakable.

  “Unidentified ship in Quadrant 4-32. We have you surrounded. Power down your systems and prepare to be boarded. Any refusal will force us to open fire.”

  K’raad shivered, imagining the smiling female gutting him with a serrated blade. He bent over and retched again, but it didn’t block the voice.

  “Please, feel free to refuse. I haven’t killed any Walker scum in weeks. You have thirty seconds to comply”

  It was clear to K’raad she intended to kill them all. Did they eat their enemies? A fresh wave of nausea threatened to overwhelm him, until the Commanders voice broke through to the terrified crew.

  “Full power to engines, set course for the system rim!”

  K’raad was rooted to the spot for at least five seconds, before it dawned on him what the idiot Commander said. He raised himself to his knees, grabbing a chair for support

  “What are you doing? You’re taking us straight at that ship. They…they’ll shoot at us!” The last sentence was a whimper.

  The Commander gave a smug grin, tinged with contempt, as he stood over his leader. He pointed at the spherical display. “Look at the emissions, sir. It’s the scout ship. They are no match for us. No, by the time the others have turned in pursuit, we’ll have blown the shit out of this little toy ship of theirs, and be across the horizon into the Never.”

  K’raad wasn’t so sure. He pulled himself upright, collapsing into his chair, but he needed to go and clean up. It’d take them over an hour to get within range of the scout. He stood on trembling legs and left the bridge.

  “Clean that up!” The Commander turned and followed K’raad out the door. Perhaps the stench will be gone by the time I return, he thought.

  Chapter Twelve

  Zhibalban Space

  The Jeraal’s bridge buzzed with an undercurrent of excitement. Almost an hour had passed since she issued the warning. She’d followed it up, but Zjokara hadn’t expected a response. Getting the timing of the relay messages right had been tricky, as they had to make it appear to originate from the destroyer, which was currently in pursuit of the enemy ship. Not the scout ship, which was the only thing standing between them and escape.

  Zlotta smiled at her captain. “It’s working, Captain. Five minutes to weapons range. They’re coming in fast and dumb.”

  “Of course they are, Sub-Commander, we’re only a scout ship, after all. We’re no match for them, are we?”

  Zjokara looked around the bridge at the smiling faces. She returned the smiles, but internally she restrained her confidence. The enemy ship may have been performing the role of a scout, but it was destroyer-sized.

  Zjokara only had these three ships in her picket force. They could have attacked as soon as they were in range, but the enemy ship would have seen them converging on their position, and run for it. And if they’d had the time to examine her approaching ships, they might have seen through their ruse, and attacked the real scout ship in a bid to escape, most likely destroying it completely.

  So, they not only had to fool it into attacking the Jeraal, a ship over three times its size; they had to take them by surprise and force them to act quickly.

  “Standby to bring the main reactors back on line.” Zjokara sat in her seat, a calming influence in this first strike against an actual Walker vessel. Since the first battle with their own Walker controlled ships, all they had to contend with was pirates and raiders. This was the true enemy. She looked around at her crew, her family, and she reddened with pride. She pushed a button on the chair to address the ship.

  “Crew of the Jeraal, this is your Captain.” Zjokara sensed the quiet attentiveness pass through the ship. “In moments, we will strike our first blow against an enemy who we thought was our friend. These beings have betrayed us and decimated our home world. We may be a dead race, if a male can’t be found, but by the Maker, if we’re going to die, so are they.” She pivoted her seat to tactical and engineering. “Reactors online. Full power to screens and weapons. Standby to fire a full spread, fifty percent yield. I want survivors.”

  Her subordinates acknowledged with a nod, and she turned to face Zlotta. “Are we ready for any Liberi?”

  She nodded her head, “All crew are suited and secured for vacuum. Specified compartments are clear and equipped with charges, Captain.”

  It was hoped the Liberia would portal aboard unsuited, as they had in the initial battle, but Zjokara wasn’t about to take any chances. Every alternate compartment in the ship had been cleared of personnel and rigged to open directly to space. Vacuum suits had grav boots of course, but the gravimetric concussion charges set in the same compartments should be enough to dislodge the boots and damage the suit’s life support, killing the greatest threat to their survival.

  “Enemy ship is thirty seconds from Zone One, Captain,” said Zlotta.

  “Prepare to detonate, Zlotta.” The use of her name caused a grin to appear on the Sub-Commander’s face. It was the greatest compliment in her ability, and Zlotta blushed.

  The enemy ship was still t
wo minutes from the extreme range of the onboard weapons, but as its course had been plotted and it drew closer, the Jeraal released its limited supply of mines. Normally these were contact only devices, designed more to prevent entry to a wide area. The crew chief of the tactical section had a twisted mind. She’d scavenged as much garbage and loose items from around the ship and packed them around the mines. The result, if it worked, might reinvent the use of deep space weaponry.

  “Entering blast envelope in five…four…three...two…one, Captain, we have detonation.”

  The mines lay in a concave half-sphere configuration, which the Sanctuary ship had just entered. They exploded, blasting the debris inwards. The flotsam, travelling at hundreds of kilometers per second impacted the shields of the enemy ship from all directions at once, instantly overloading them. The emissions from the vessel fluctuated as several of the larger fragments tore through its hull.

  Zjokara grinned. She flexed her neck in satisfaction, but this wasn’t over yet. As the ships closed to visual range, the risk of the Liberi transporting across grew.

  “Open a channel, Zlotta. Let’s see if they’re ready to talk.” The Sub-Commander’s hands flew across her controls before she returned her Captain’s smile and nodded.

  “Enemy ship, vessel, scrapheap, whatever you chose to label yourself as. By now, you must realize you are dead in space. If you decide to surrender, I will personally guarantee your safety. Believe me, there are many over here who would rather I push the button to end you now.” Zjokara paused to let the threat sink in.

  “Fortunately for you, it’s my button. I’ve become quite close to it. But not enough to let you approach any closer. You have thirty seconds to comply.”

  Zlotta craned her head, and her brow creased, “Captain, thirty seconds isn’t enough time for them to respond.”

  “Which is why I specified fifty percent yield on the missiles Sub-Commander.” Zjokara checked the time. “Launch the portside missiles. No sense in wasting ordnance after all.” The mines had been much more effective than she’d thought. The crew chief was getting a promotion.

 

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