The clones served two key purposes in Karukai society. First, such clones acted as valuable yet disposable shock troops, often forming the front attack–line of Karukai actions, especially those dependent on numeric superiority. Though not at all capable of original thought or strategic application, Greys were unswervingly loyal, followed orders without question and were also all but devoid of fear, making clone units a devastating device on the field of battle.
The second function Greys served for the Karukai, was that they acted as a portable food source, whether at home or, most importantly, in the field. Though considered to be barely higher in satiation value and ratio than the bland Vitani Serum that most non–bonded Vosaia existed upon on a daily basis, Karukai clones acted as ever–ready, living field rations.
Of course, moral implications aside, the disadvantage to such cloning was that their lifecycle was extremely short. Three years maximum, with six months required for basic physical conditioning of fine motor control, as well as military training and drilling. The encoding of data and skill can only extend so far, after all. So in the end, the useful lifespan of clones tended to be no more than a little over two years before complete physical and neurological breakdown occurs.
Looking at the dead woman lying on the floor before her, Avara felt a stab of rage almost equal to her fury over the other lifeless souls they had already come across.
For most known races and cultures, the practice of cloning to create fully self–aware sentients rather than individual organs or corporeal materials for medical application, was considered to be utterly abhorrent and lacking in basic decency. Indeed, such practice was outlawed within the Quorum Aligned Systems.
It was debatable as to which was more cruel: the practice of slavery of once free or captive–born individuals, or the genetic farming of people whose only purpose that they could even comprehend, was to spend their brief existence in servitude and as sustenance before the unmourned flame of their life’s–light was extinguished.
Fucking Vamps.
The pejorative phrase scorched across Captain Serros’s mind like a forest–blaze as she considered how very appropriate the Old–Terran mythological appellation was.
“We need to be sure to record everything we find; the Human Ministry and the Quorum will need to know.” Avara finally spoke into the silence, her voice harsh even to her own ears within the confines of her helm.
“Yes.” K’llan agreed, her soprano steel–touched. The two quickly and efficiently scanned every hateful scene and scrap of evidence before exiting the showers. They then moved down Deck 6’s main corridor to continue their increasingly futile search for survivors and gather any more useful intelligence. Unfortunately, there was no relief to be found beyond the remaining doors of the hallway.
It quickly became apparent that the other entryways, about a dozen in total, were all prison cells where slaves were held captive for transport. And all along the thoroughfare itself were scores of corpses, many clearly prisoners, but several also Karukai and Greys.
From the body count as well as the severe damage that the walls, ceilings, and floors had sustained, it was obvious that a vicious and bloody battle had taken place here. There was hardly a span greater than a foot in length that was untouched by bullet fire.
Avara found that a sucking sound accompanied each lift of booted feet as the two walked, their soles half–sticking to the viscous blood that basted the dusky floors. Male, female, youth and elder; Human, Vosaia, Gorath, Irdoi, Braxien, and even a single gold–green scaled Shiraneth. All were present. Each taken captive by the Karukai raiding ship that so observably focused on the reaping of slaves.
Making their way to the second to last cell on their right, Serros and Z’arr came upon a particularly chilling spectacle. Eight or so individuals, primarily Human, all lying on the cell’s floor and set into positions of what could only be described as extreme agony.
One pale man’s hands were swollen with bruising, and dried blood covered knuckles, fingers, wrists and forearms as well as being licked along the wall directly next to the cell door. The wounds were inflicted from punching the surface of the cell’s door and adjacent wall over and over again in an effort to escape.
A younger woman, no more than twenty years in age, sported bloody tracks along her cheeks and neck, clearly self–inflicted. Her face was marked with an expression of passionate desperation that unless directly experienced, the imagination can only barely grasp. The extremely blood–shot state of each prisoner’s eyes gave unwelcome answer to the mystery.
Faced with an outbreak, the Karukai had vented the cell to prevent escape and the slaves had spent their last minutes in a struggle as desperate as it was futile: to capture life–giving oxygen.
Again fighting a vision–blackening swell of fury, Serros felt the firm grip of K’llan’s armored hand on her shoulder. For just a moment, Avara was swept up within the Vosaia’s own feelings of life–rending rage and deep pain from all that they had witnessed in a matter of hours. Yet the sentiment was soon submerged within the very real, life–sustaining balm of gentle yet enduring support and affection that embraced Serros’s heart and mind. With a deliberate offering, Avara extended her own feelings of care and regard, sustaining the Vosaia in turn as she herself was buoyed.
After the passage of several weighted seconds, Avara found herself able to nod an affirmative, and the two continued their exploration. Finally, Avara and K’llan had completed their circuit through the horror–filled hallway and Serros keyed Nova’s Comm channel.
“This is Captain Serros. We’ve completed our sweep of Deck 6. We’ve located thirty–six bodies. Twenty–seven prisoners of various races, nine Karukai and Karukai Clones. No survivors.” It was hard, but Serros managed to keep her voice steady during the report, if barely.
“Acknowledged, Captain.” Commander Perez replied a moment later. “No survivors here either. Nine dead, all Karukai. We’ve found a record of what occurred, a Captain S’val’s log. Apparently a group of recently captured Humans from the merchantman Baton Rouge organized an escape. Two became or pretended to be extremely ill, and so were removed to Med Bay. They then orchestrated the escape by infiltrating Engineering, spliced into Systems, and cut power. The cut opened up some of the cells. Apparently, the on–ship battle went back and forth for close to three days.” Marcus spoke in his “Commander’s” voice; professional and precise, yet Avara could hear the carefully managed strain.
“Captain, the report is consistent with what we’ve found in Engineering.” Lieutenant Rygel’s shell–shocked voice broke in. “Fifteen dead. Half the systems have been sliced to Hell and back. Drives were deliberately torn apart; my guess, to keep her from going anywhere. No survivors.”
“And there’s more. We found the body of Captain Mayweather; it appears she led the initiative here.” Ca’rrakk growled.
“S’val’s log also identifies Dantis as the cargo drop–off point. Specifically, a location titled Outpost J2.” Naxos reported.
“There are no coordinates listed for this outpost; appears that they were deliberately wiped.” Marcus supplemented.
“Understood. Rygel, how close are you to bandaging the ship’s systems?”
“I’m sorry to say it, Captain, but there’s no bandage big enough to bring the Ardent fully on–line; there’s just been too much damage. It would take a tow and two month’s dry dock.” Dane answered, frustration clear.
“Okay. Do what you can to get the basics stabilized so she doesn’t blow or crash to the planet’s surface. We’re going to call in to get this boat tugged for scrutiny.” Captain Serros answered in a cool tone of reassurance. “Marcus, I want you to retrieve every scrap of data you…”
Serros’s sentence was interrupted by an ear exploding gah–boom that sounded throughout the ship and was accompanied by a bone–rattling quake that knocked both Avara and K’llan off their feet. The former slammed into the deck’s port wall only to be crashed into a split–second la
ter by K’llan.
Shaking her head, Serros was certain the only reason her brains weren’t dribbling out of her ears at the impact was her helmet. With a skidding–stumble, she forced herself to her feet even as successive detonations threatened to tear away the floor once more.
With one hand bodily lifting Z’arr from the quaking ground, Serros snapped out, “Nova, report!”
“Captain… we’re alright… systems are totally off–line.” Marcus’s voice answered seconds later, tone vibrating with the shaking tremors rocking the Ardent.
“Acknowledged. Lieutenant Rygel, report. Dane… Ca’rrakk!” Serros repeated, still not receiving an answer.
Finally, the Gorath’s husky voice rasped over the Comm. “Here, Captain. Some kind of timed explosion… Rygel identified the trap a moment before detonation. Everything is completely out of commission here. He’s unconscious, but I have him.”
“Avara, the explosion seems to have initiated at the docking tube. It’s completely blown!” Perez chimed in. “I’m getting no answer from Avernus Corp.”
“Okay team,” Avara began, K’llan and she already moving towards the maintenance shaft and ladder. “Get to Deck 2 and the escape pods immediately. K’llan said they just needed a quick repair. Unless I miss my guess, we’re running out of time.”
“Got it!” Marcus answered.
“Acknowledged and moving.” Ca’rrakk seconded.
“Captain Serros, what’s your status, please?” Lieutenant Commander Adeline’s voice cut in over the channel.
“Here, A. Ship’s half–torn to Hell; docking tube’s gone and we’re making for the escape pods. How’s Excalibur?” Serros asked the last as she and the Vosaia began their journey up through the dying ship’s arteries.
“We have taken a significant amount of damage. The hull is ruptured on Decks 1 and 12, though emergency shields have locked. Communications and Sensors are down and Batteries 1 and 2 are blown. Still assessing casualties.” Ever the professional, Diana’s voice was as measured as was typical, but Serros could detect the contained strain behind her careful pronunciation.
“Focus on the hull–breach and sensors, Diana; communication is secondary since we don’t want the wrong people listening if we’re not up to greeting hostiles. The ship is definitely Karukai and military; slavers. There were no survivors.”
Avara said the last just seconds before both she and Z’arr slipped several feet down the ladder they were climbing, due to yet another explosion–initiated toss of the Ardent. Catching first herself with her right hand and then the Vosaia’s in a bone–mashing left handed grip, Avara slammed into the back wall of the narrow shaft with crushing force. Hands numb with the effort, the Shield Operative was able to maintain her dual–hold and then swing K’llan back to the metal rungs.
“Acknowledged, Captain.” Adeline responded. “Keep safe.”
The grim irony of the Ops Officer’s words at that moment was not lost on Avara. “We’ll do our best, and you do the same; Serros out.”
The route up was an endless nightmare of flame, smoke and vapor, protesting wiring, and groaning sheets of metal punctuated by numerous close calls that were in turn, emphasized by the accumulation of more contusions than Serros could quantify. The lack of stability as well as the plethora of shifting obstructions and obstacles meant the two couldn’t activate their DSA Enhancements to speed up their travel rate, either. It would have been practically suicidal to attempt.
Just before reaching Deck 3, a gout of electricity–spawned flame swept into the shaft and sheeted the two crewmates with scorching heat. Feeling like she was a sardine being cooked in a tin–can, Serros and Z’arr were able to climb four and a half feet through the fire and exit the maintenance–way onto Deck 3.
Despite the protection provided by their armor, by the time the two managed to crawl out of the duct, Avara was half–blinded by the salty–sting of sweat dripping from her plastered hair and running down her face.
“Captain, we’ve repaired a life–pod and are ready to launch. What’s your ETA?” Commander Perez’s voice was fuzzy but audible as Avara reflexively sucked in deep breaths of air.
“K’llan and I are on Deck 3; the maintenance shaft is impassible.” Serros answered as she and Z’arr made their feet and immediately worked to open the disabled lift’s doors. Gyroscopes entirely inoperable, with a thought, Avara triggered her Physical Potency and Vitality Arca Enhancement.
Then in an act of extreme exertion, flexed until she was able to pry open the lift’s double–doors with a protesting metallic groan. Moving quickly, Avara hoisted K’llan up, with the Vosaia carefully balancing on the Shield’s shoulders in order to reach and then pop–off the lift’s emergency exit hatch on the elevator’s ceiling.
“We’re working our way up the lift–shaft to Deck 2.” Serros continued her report to Perez as she and K’llan climbed through the aperture to then find their feet on its durexium roof–top. “Finish repairs on a second life–pod and then I want you out; we’ll follow.”
“What? No way! I’m staying until you’re here; you’re not that far.” Marcus’s voice whipped back over the Comm, that stubborn tone that Avara knew so well clearly sounding through.
Catching her balance due to yet another grinding tremor that threatened to spill the two squadmates over the side and into the narrow shaft, Avara replied, “Repair a second pod and leave immediately. We don’t have much time, Marcus.”
“But…”
“I mean it, Marcus.” Serros cut off as she and Z’arr began their climb up the narrow emergency lift–shaft ladder, her voice uncompromising steel as she added, “That’s an order, Exec.”
“Understood, Captain.” Perez answered a moment later, his tone clipped resignation.
Ignoring the sting of sweat in her eyes, by cricking her head as she climbed, Avara was able to spy their destination, Deck 2’s lift doors. In less than two minutes time after Serros’s order, Perez reported, “Pod 4 has been fully repaired, Captain. We are evacuating to Pod 3 now.”
“Acknowledged, Marcus. We’re almost there. See you on the other side.”
“See you on the other side, Avara.”
Just seconds after Marcus had finished his sentence, a persistent hissing sound swept up the shaft like an angry arrow. Out of the corner of her eye Avara caught sight of what looked like an up–falling acorn of yellow, orange, and blood–red.
A moment later, the seed blossomed into an explosion of dark–defying light and fire. Searing heat swept Avara and K’llan up into a smoldering embrace even as a rocketing kish–kish–boom tossed the battered frame of the TS Ardent. With what felt like the force of two sky–cars speeding with reckless abandon before meeting head–on in a deadly kiss, Serros felt herself wrenched from the ladder and slammed into the shaft’s side wall.
Her vision a crescendo of splintering stars, Avara was vaguely aware of free–falling through flame like a comet questing for an earthly embrace, even as she could feel her right hand firmly gripping K’llan’s forearm.
Then, as night and light married, Avara was no longer aware of anything at all.
CHAPTER 17
“Jaxx, report.” Diana Adeline’s voice whipped through the Bridge like the crack of a gun–shot.
“We… hull breach on Decks 1 and 12, Lieutenant Commander. Emergency seals activated. The Port Docking Tube is completely gone, Adeline. Still assessing the extent of damage.” The Lieutenant reported, freckled face pale but voice steady.
Struggling against the turbulence of the shifting deck–floor, Diana made it to the frigate’s Command Chair and having activated her safety–harness, she thumbed the display to screen in–coming data. “Lieutenant Chopa, are we operable?”
“Navigation and Flight Control is fully functional, Lieutenant Commander.” Chopa answered without hesitation, “But sensors seem to be off–line, so really, it would be dicey to actually move her.”
Once more, the Excalibur’s entire frame shook like a spe
ared whale trying to free herself from a harpoon.
“Lieutenant Commander, confirmation that the Long Range and Short Range Sensor Array and FTL Communications Node are fried. Cannon Batteries 1 and 2 are also completely gone.” Tildon Jaxx announced.
“All other Weapons Systems, Batteries and Shields are still functional, Lieutenant Commander.” Ensign Gabriel Ambrose reported a moment later from the Tactical Station that Belgrum Naxos typically manned when on–board and on–duty. Adeline could see that his hands were shaky as he worked.
“A bit of good news; keep on it, Gabriel.” Adeline replied, taking the time to reassure the second most junior bridge officer, and by extension, the entire Bridge crew, just as she knew Avara would have done.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Engines are still humming, Lieutenant Commander.” Philips’s announced a moment later, voice digitally amplified due to his far larboard and stern CIC station position.
“Casualties, Ngai?” Diana then asked, turning towards what was Adeline’s usual post on the Bridge.
“Still not fully accounted for, Lieutenant Commander. Two fatalities and half–a–dozen reported injuries so far.” Lieutenant Marel Ngai responded, hazel eyes stark, matching the soberness of her voice.
Feeling the only too familiar pain of loss that accompanied naval service, a reality that was mercilessly driven home during the horrors of the Margrom War, Adeline offered a brief nod in response. “Understood, Marel.”
“Lieutenant Commander, Shuttle Bay is reporting significant damage. Reports coming in seem to confirm that debris from the Ardent impacted the sector. Shuttle and fighter launch and dock are not viable until repaired.” Jaxx reported, head cutting a negative. “We should be reasonably stable now, with no more significant turbulence.”
“Very well.” Adeline responded, and with a sense of foreboding, turned to the short statured Ensign Ling sitting at Communications. “Ling, open a channel to Captain Serros.”
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