by SK Benton
Robinson merely looked at his subordinate and nodded, feeling completely lost. He was in charge of his ship, but he wasn't in control. So, if something went wrong he would receive the blame, but if something turned out amazing it was of course Chairman Johnson who would be displayed on all media sources system-wide. The captain wasn't against someone getting credit for making amazing discoveries, as being in the military was pretty much a thankless job, but he wasn't crazy about narcissistic politicians using him - and at that moment he was feeling pretty used.
"We would like to believe that, son. Anyway, let's track properly and not drop out of side space too soon."
Neither of the two military officers, both genetic normals, had any idea that Johnson was preparing a fleet to return to Old Earth. Their mission was to get Johnson to the Artusian Fleet. The majority of people invited by Johnson to return to Old Earth were either carrying the recessive vampire gene (and were naturally attracted to each other), or were extremely subservient normals who would pose no threat to Johnson's power structure. After all, he would need reliable, obedient slave labor when they arrived.
At the culmination of four hours the crew started preparations to drop out of side space, well behind the alien fleet. Not knowing what to expect, they were all relatively excited to see these supposed angelic, superior beings who were on their way to help usher Azul System to a new level of consciousness. No one ever took into account that the arriving visitors were flying at velocities significantly slower than light speed.
Taking no chances, Robinson programmed the ship to drop into regular space behind the fleet when they were 2.3 million miles away. A short while later, Johnson arrived from the galley, wearing a concerned expression.
"Are you doing as requested, and coming in behind the fleet?" he asked while carrying an ominous tone to his voice.
"That is correct, sir. We shall exit side space behind what would appear to be their capitol ship. I believe we should have plenty of room for maneuvering when we're there, which should happen in… ten, nine, eight, seven …"
He didn't need to keep counting, as everyone watched the command panel and listened as the hook drive retracted, effectively moving them from side space to the normal universe.
Opening the main display view screen, which had been shut during their trip, no one expected to see anything but black space and distant stars. Instead, they found themselves in the middle of what appeared to be a vagabond fleet of tens of thousands of various craft, nearly every one being unique in configuration, and most not even resembling any known form of transport. Robinson acted quickly, taking the pilot's place and igniting the fusion-ion drives. The fleet was going slightly faster than the human craft's velocity, so he guided the ship to a large, open area where they wouldn't suffer any damage.
"What is this? It's enormous - the head of the fleet is nearly a thousand K ahead of us, and there are still ships trailing. How many ships are there? And what the hell are they? They're so…dark," muttered Robinson, as he looked over to the Chairman with a cautious glance and a chill running down his spine.
"Bring us to the largest craft. That is where X'than'dor will be. I must awaken him so we may speak."
"Who is this X'than'dor, sir? Is he the Artusian leader?" asked Lieutenant Hernandez.
"In a manner of speaking, but I find your questions to be annoying, Lieutenant. Captain, take us to the lead ship - the largest one. Now. Notify me once you have identified this vessel."
Hernandez showed Robinson a concerned and guarded expression as he looked towards the view screen. Robinson then continued to expertly guide the craft; the ship's fusion-ion drives easily outpacing the erratically scattered alien ships. As soon as Johnson was out of earshot, Hernandez leaned down and spoke into his captain's ear.
"Sir, I don't feel very good about this. Everything we have been shown has been beautiful lights, gleaming vessels and angelic aliens. This looks like the complete opposite. It's a bunch of mierda in my opinion."
"I agree, but it's not like we had a lot of choice in the matter. Johnson gets what he wants. Just keep an eye out for the largest vessel. When we see it, we notify him and he can deal with them."
"Aye aye, sir."
Neither of the officers, nor the three enlisted personnel onboard (who had remained out of sight, in the engine room and kitchen, during the voyage) could see into Johnson's quarters, where he was frantically typing into his personal console, all in a vain attempt to awaken X'than'dor.
Damned alien scum. Why can't they be normal like us?
Johnson nearly asked his question out loud, totally frustrated, and seriously wondered why the Vrol weren't more like humans. What he didn't know, or even realize, was that they were created to exterminate humans, as well as a variety of other species, and had as much in common with Mankind as the Ebola virus had with a bunny rabbit. He was in over his head, but his sociopathic arrogance overrode all precautionary common sense he might have otherwise possessed.
Punching commands into his communications interface - which was the equivalent of pounding on someone's door to wake them up - he elicited no response from the Vrol. By this point he figured all he could do would be to attempt to dock with the lead ship and go from there.
Robinson lithely navigated in between dozens of craft, some not even resembling space ships, and looking more like asteroids. He sent out a probe to perform an analysis on one of the craft, and it had returned about 25% of its data back before it suddenly blinked off. Sending out another probe in order to find what happened to the first one he received his answer; a high-powered energy pulse destroyed the second one. Someone didn't want to be scanned, so Robinson had to immediately consider himself in a hostile situation.
Hernandez stared at the view screen with a look of utter horror on his face. Then, being sent by his captain to fetch Johnson, the junior officer did something he never imagined himself doing in his entire life - he went around behind Johnson's quarters, entering into a small storage space. But this space had a vent, looking into Johnson's room.
Quietly stepping up onto a box, Hernandez looked through the vent grate with his magnalens, a magnifying contact lens, which he nearly always wore, attempting to see what was on the dictator's personal console. Miguel grew up a mischievous child, and the military academy was probably the only thing that kept him from running afoul of the law. He was no stranger to spying on people - he was caught and thrown out of the public university where he attended for setting up surveillance cameras in a women's locker room. However, he was let back in the following year, mostly due to his outstanding grades and the sincere letter of apology he submitted via his legal council.
Zooming in carefully, he trained his view directly onto Johnson's console, noting that the leader was typing into what appeared to be some sort of custom chatcom interface. He saw the latest of Johnson's text communications on the screen, and what he saw nearly gave him a heart attack;
Johnson: And you will not approach Earth?
X'than'dor: We have no interest in Earth
Johnson: Excellent. I get Earth, and I will give you Azul
X'than'dor: We shall take it anyway
Johnson: That is fine. My agent reached Earth. Planet is intact
X'than'dor: Explain what means word "fine". It is logic. It is reality. Earth died. We continue. Azul dies. We continue.
Johnson: Are you there? I have come to meet with you. Wake up. Which ship are you in?
resend:
resend:
resend:
Miguel performed a predefined series of blinks, causing his lens to silently snap a string of images of Johnson's screen and send them to his own personal console so he could show them to his captain. Slowly and carefully exiting out of the storage closet, he then quickly bolted past Johnson's door and went straight to the small bridge area, handing his personal console to Robinson and showing the captain one of the images he had just taken.
"Miggy, what's this?"
"Sir,
it should be obvious. It's an image of his screen. We're going to die. Earth is dead and these… things are on their way to Azul to do the same."
"My, my, how unfortunate that you saw that," said Johnson, with a sinister growl behind the officers, stinger pistol trained on their position. "I was really hoping that you would have been good little nobodies and had done your jobs as commanded by your sovereign."
"Sovereign? Our what?" demanded Robinson. "We have a Constitution that doesn't allow for kings or leaders for life, and while I fully supported the government's temporary reorganization due to extraordinary circumstances, I kind of have a feeling that really wasn't your intention now, was it?"
"Oh, I am your…. how shall I say it, for the lack of a better term, your king? Yes, I believe I am. And this species surrounding us is going to cleanse the filth that has permeated our society. I am leading the salvation of Mankind - a modern-day Noah, if you will, and you two are fortunate enough to witness a part of it. That being said, I will need for you two to cooperate and get me back to Azul once I have had my little meeting. If things go well I will even provide a space on the New Exodus fleet for you and your immediate families. If things go well… and you behave."
Johnson was lying through his teeth, and the two officers knew it, but all they could do was go along with him and hope for the best. What Johnson didn't notice when he was talking was that Miguel had sent his images of Johnson's screen to various contacts. However, it would be a few weeks before they arrived at anyone's personal console, having been sent through normal channels, and the transmission's point of origin so many light years away from Azul System.
"So, do I have your cooperation or not, gentlemen? Oh, and I'll take that personal console, Lieutenant."
Jennard Robinson didn't become a captain by making rash decisions. In fact, it was quite the opposite, and was precisely the reason Johnson had selected him to lead the craft to rendezvous with the Vrol, but Johnson hadn't taken junior officers into consideration, so he had no idea that Hernandez wasn't anything like his commanding officer. Miguel knew that they were standing on the bridge with the most horrific traitor to the human race in known history; Johnson made Mao Tse Tung look like a camp counselor.
The junior officer started to formulate a plan to relieve Johnson of his stinger. Then, once he had it, he would quickly assassinate the dictator and hope that his transmitted imagery would exonerate him from any crime, and perhaps even make him a hero of Mankind.
Both of the officers nodded their heads, with Miguel handing Johnson his device, and were about to go about their business, when their craft was violently jolted, knocking all three to the deck. Yells erupted from the back of the craft where the enlisted personnel were stationed, and a terrible, screeching sound ripped through their ears. Jumping up to his feet, Hernandez scanned around via the view screen, seeing that their ship had been locked onto with what appeared to be harpoons and cables. It was a matter of moments before their ship was sided up with a fairly large and ungainly-looking craft. Upon closer inspection, both of the officers noticed that the outer skin of the alien craft seemed to undulate, as if it were made of massive, living cells.
Johnson sat on the deck, paralyzed with fear. It was the first time either officer had seen anything less than a sneering look of self-confidence on his face, and despite their obviously dangerous situation, they both found it rather pleasant to view. But their enjoyment didn't last long. A large explosion rocked the craft, opening up a hole in the bulkhead, through which two creatures entered, each roughly two meters long and resembling millipedes, but having larger heads and deadly-looking quad-mandibles. Taking advantage of the distraction, Hernandez ran up to the fear-immobilized Johnson, grabbing the despot's weapon and training it on his face. However, he was just a little too late - for himself and for humanity.
He was the first to find out what the creatures' mandibles were for.
Robinson watched in horror as a lightning-fast alien skittered up and enveloped the lieutenant's body with its dozens of legs, and then slammed its razor-sharp mandibles down onto Hernandez's head and chewed it off his body, while a second creature entwined with the first and covered the gaping neck hole where the lieutenant's head was with its own mouth, its body obscenely expanding and contracting as the beast sucked all of the internal organs and life fluids out of the unfortunate man's torso, leaving it looking partially desiccated.
The last thing the captain saw was Johnson being carried off, screaming, by what appeared to be armored, bipedal praying mantises, uselessly kicking his legs in protest.
Chapter 2 - Savior
"Max, she needs to study more and you know it."
Jennie Gunnarsson was becoming concerned with the fact that their daughter, Liliana, was spending an inordinate amount of time on recon missions and at the base and not in the classroom, where as a child she belonged.
"Yeah love, I know. But things are so chaotic right now. We just need to get everything in order. Plus you know she made friends with these kids, and we're bringing them all back with us."
Max looked out over the Tongass Narrows, a seawater channel in Southeast Alaska that separated the islands of Revillagigedo and Gravina, where only the disintegrated remains of an ancient airport littered the landscape of the latter. He and his wife Jennie had come along with their daughter in order to coordinate the removal of the Saxman Haidas - some going to Vera, and others, mostly children, going to the Rhönen Dominion, where they would live in safety until Azul had been secured and the Vrol had hopefully been eliminated from the galaxy.
Liliana was skipping small rocks on the water while she watched bald eagles soar over the channel, searching for food. The youngling was obviously impatient and wanting to visit with her friends in the Haida village, so looking over to her parents she asked, "Um, are we going to go there anytime soon? You do remember that they always provide excellent barbeque."
Jennie giggled softly as she stood up, grabbing Max's hand and pulling him with her. Seeing this as a sign they were finally going to the village, Liliana ran over with a big smile and stood next to her parents. In a matter of nanoseconds the three were standing in front of the great totem pole from which Max had extracted his ghanlo mere days before. Liliana gave both her parents a hug, and then darted off to the clan house where her friends were waiting.
"Jen, you realize that this is just a coordination meeting, right? We aren't taking anybody back with us yet."
"I know, sweetie. It's just that I really want to get some of these people up and trained. The earlier we start, the better chance of survival they will have. It's only fair, you know."
Jennie was truly concerned for the Haidas, as she had grown quite fond of the displaced lycan clan. The PAH (Post-Apocalyptic Hollywood) timeline wasn't their native world, and they were eager to move on and assist wherever they could. She wanted to see them happy and safe, and while they were quite secure in their current locale, they were fairly unhappy - they needed a change of scenery, much as Jennie did over a year prior. The couple walked up to the clan house, where Jake Williams greeted them, as was his usual habit.
"Greetings Ms. Jennie and He-who-flies-in-"
"Jake… it's Max. Please, just call me Max, ok? Not Soaring Eagle Ass Kicker or whatever other name you come up with."
"My apologies, Max. It is just that you showed a great interest in our traditional names when we first met, so I thought perhaps you would like one."
The elder looked a bit disappointed that Max was unwilling to be addressed in such a manner, but Max put the old man at ease.
"Jake, I really do appreciate it, seriously. But like my grandfather Draagh says, it's much more efficient, especially in times of battle, to keep your names short and sweet." Max exaggerated a bit in recounting his grandfather's distaste for long names - it wasn't that they would interfere in battle; it was actually that long words interfered with mealtimes, and Draagh loved shortcuts. And mealtimes.
"So Jake," started Jennie, "we
just wanted to touch bases with you and get the ball rolling. We have some ideas about where the kids will go, where the young adults will go and where we will take the tribal elders."
"Shall we elders be taken to a location where we shall not participate in fighting this evil alien enemy? I know we are older, but we can provide many support services, young lady."
Jake appeared to be a bit dismayed with Jennie's suggestion of separating the elders from the rest of the tribe, but Max jumped in and salvaged the intent of the operation.
"Jake, no, it's not that at all. Your wisdom will be valuable. It's a matter of where we have space and what facilities exist. We think that you, that is, the elders, would be better off in the Rhönen Dominion where we are taking the children. The younger adults who'll train with weapons will need to go to our base on Vera."
Jennie smiled and nodded her head in agreement with Max, knowing that her introduction to the subject had been sort of open-ended, and sounded like she was going to send the elders off to somewhere completely different than everyone else.
"Very well, Max. I believe that this location should be sufficient. We only want to be of service, and never a burden. If you would, please come inside and tell us more about this Rhönen." Jake Williams then opened the door to the clan house and the three entered and greeted the other tribal elders, along with a few of the younger clan members.
Max started going over Krynos' kingdom in detail, while everyone enjoyed a magnificent barbeque lunch, just as Liliana had predicted.
Approximately two hours passed, with Max and Jennie having exchanged sufficient information with the tribe and managing to schedule a preliminary training for young adults, which would occur on Vera. The children would then be brought over, but there was still work to be done. The castle was starting to fill up with all of the new arrivals, such as the newly turned local families that promised to fight for Azul. Max needed to work with his father and uncle to build new, temporary lodging facilities for the children, all of whom he was almost certain his daughter would visit on a daily basis. The little lycan girl had much more in common with the Haida children than she did with normals, or all of the adults with whom she surrounded herself.