“Why?”
“This is a scout ship. How stealthy can we be, if we have transmissions radiating to and from us? We’d get detected in a nanoclick.”
“Oh, yeah,” she said, feeling foolish.
“Only one encrypted and highly masked signal band is used. And that’s limited to communications between us and fleet command.”
All at once, she felt useless. What could she do if she didn’t have her tools? The burn of panic shot through her. “Mini-T!” she said.
She waited, hoping, praying to Eudora that a fountain of light would appear. As the moments went by, a sick realization knotted in her stomach.
“Bob?” she said, desperate.
Nothing.
“Bob?” Ghn’en laughed. “It knows it can’t come here—for many reasons.”
Her heart fluttered. Not only did she not have any of her tools or yota-quads of information, she literally was alone. No Mini-T, no Bob.
She looked to Mencari, feeling abandoned, and said, “They’re not coming.”
Spark rubbed up against her leg, and wagged his tail. At least she still had him. Still, losing access to everything else, disconnected from her web, felt isolating and cold.
Ghn’en motioned to a row of seats along the far wall. “Take your seats, and we’ll be off.”
As she sat, she glanced forward into what looked like the bridge. A number of familiar races sat at various stations. There were others of Ghn’en’s race, a few that looked like Eyani, more sloth-like beings similar to Tenrl, and even one that looked like her. Of all the races on the Trading Post and within Eden, she was curious why the races before her were more prevalent in Eden operations.
“Where will you sit?” Allia asked as she looked for another chair.
He seemed repulsed by the question. “I’m the captain of the scout ship. There’s too much to do to sit.”
Toriko watched the sloth-like helmsmen work in what appeared to be a holographic navigational display. A diagram showed the ship uncoupling from the station’s support lines. Her body became a bit heavier as the artificial gravity system on the ship took over.
With a strange jitteriness about her, Allia asked, “Ghn’en, are we joining the fleet now?”
“Nope. Right to our target. The fleet’s already in position. When we need them, they’ll join us.”
Toriko stared out a window in disbelief. The ship pulled so smoothly from the bay, it felt like they weren’t moving at all. Until she felt a great and sudden weight on her body. She sank into her seat as the main thrusters engaged. In moments, the Trading Post was out of sight.
Her brow wrinkled. “Isn’t the spaceway the other way?”
“Yep,” Ghn’en said, more interested in the display before him.
“But why?”
His body tensed, then froze for a moment. He blew out an audible sigh. “Because we’re a scout ship. We can’t take the spaceway—” A blip turned him back to his display. “Go ahead.”
A young man’s voice rang out, “Tunnel drive is active, sir.”
“Tunnel drive?” Toriko said, concerned.
He looked at her with annoyance. “There a problem?”
Toriko looked back to Seigie and Mencari, then gave a nervous laugh. “Um … no. Well maybe but not really.… They had a bad experience.”
“They?” Seigie said.
“If you’re unnerved now, maybe you’re the wrong person for this assignment?” Ghn’en said. “Do I need to take you back to Eden?”
“N … No,” Toriko said, embarrassed.
With a huff, Ghn’en called to the navigator, “Take us out.”
The navigator engaged the drive system. An amber beam of light shot from the front of the ship. A tiny explosion flared before being swallowed in a twist of space. The effect spiraled inward, creating a tunnel into which the ship dove.
Through the windows, walls of pure energy spiraled about them. Toriko stared, mesmerized by the swirling patterns that washed across the tunnel walls.
“It’s something, eh?” Ghn’en made a selection on his console that brought the console attached to Toriko’s seat to life. “Here, this will keep you busy.” His demeaning tone didn’t match his warm smile. Nevertheless, Toriko looked down at her console and gasped.
The display cycled swiftly through various diagrams, real-time physics of tunnel structure, and other, endless listings of data. Toriko’s eyes danced in delight. “Power levels, spatial fortitude, hull resistance,” she squealed. The flowing data made love to her obsession with technology.
“Sir, tunnel-out in two minutes,” the gritty female next to Ghn’en reported.
“Acknowledged, helmsperson,” Ghn’en said, unconcerned.
Toriko cried out; she’d wanted to study the readings longer.
“Only two minutes?” Mencari said.
Ghn’en glanced his way. “Didn’t I mention? She’s fast.”
* * * * *
“Sir, target has altered course,” a younger version of Ghn’en said, his tone grave. “Relaying new coordinates to helm.”
Mencari’s heart began to pound, his eyes transfixed on the giant tactical display that appeared when they entered normal space.
“Coordinates received. And navigation adjusted,” a tougher-looking version of Eyani said.
The little icon on the tactical display jumped to a new position, along with the dashed line to indicate their approach trajectory.
As the bridge door opened, a familiar face strolled in. Mencari stared, trying to figure out where he knew the man from. Images of a mine taken over by the Nukari flashed through his mind. Alarms were blaring, they had been detected, guardian robots were chasing them and—that man was there. His group had helped save him and his name was …
“Liren!” Allia cried out, waving.
“Hello again. It’s been a while … Allia, right?”
She bobbed her head. He took a seat next to Toriko and pulled up a display. “Everything’s ready below, Ghn’en.”
“Good … Helm, time to intercept?”
Eyani’s gruff doppelganger responded, “Traveling in normal space, at the present speed—three minutes, sir.”
“Good. Go to green.”
Before he finished speaking, the colors of the spectrum began to bleed away. Everything seemed to glow in an eerie green cast. Mencari noticed Seigie squirming.
“You okay?” he asked.
She looked over at her armguard and nodded half-heartedly. “I think so, something just feels strange.”
“What is this?” Mencari asked Ghn’en.
“An extra stealth measure,” Liren answered for him.
Along with the colors, energy bled away from the console before Toriko. She groaned as if a favorite toy had been taken away. “I could have watched that all day. According to the data, not only is it using a tunnel drive, there’s some type of slipstream containment system that optimizes the …”
Allia cleared her throat, stopping Toriko. The geek blushed before concluding with, “It’s just … fast.”
Mencari recalled how Liren’s “friends” showed up out of nowhere to pick him up, and with little previous notice of their location. Mencari said, “No wonder they caught up to us so soon after saving you from the mine.”
“Visual confirmation on long-range oculars, sir,” the gruff woman said.
Ghn’en nodded. “Let’s see it.”
A new projection appeared. Despite the greenish cast, the picture was marvelously clear. A small, blocky object hung in space before them.
“So there they are,” Mencari said.
“And you’re sure they can’t see us?” Allia asked.
“They haven’t started firing at us yet, have they?” Ghn’en gave a roguish smirk.
A shorter version of Tenrl said, “Energy outputs remain consistent. No sign of defense systems activation.”
The pounding in Mencari’s chest grew as they drew closer.
Seigie peered at the object. �
�It’s big,”
“Still think we can take it down?” Cogeni, the newcomer, had been silent until now.
Ghn’en laughed. “If we want to.”
“Our goal is still to disable it and see what’s inside,” Liren said.
As they approached, they found the vessel trailing refuse and pieces of hull.
Allia sat transfixed by a display that showed the stream of debris. “Junk?”
Ghn’en looked puzzled. “Get us a better view of that ship, Lieutenant.”
The display of the ship magnified many times, to the point it appeared they were next to it, and panned over various sections of the ship. While it was still space-worthy, it looked like it hadn’t been serviced in decades. There were jagged supports where instruments or shielding had once been. Craters pocketed the aft side of the ship, as if they had been through a meteor storm and didn’t bother to make repairs.
“It’s a scrap heap!” Toriko cried.
Mencari shook his head. “This can’t be right.”
Ghn’en checked the data collected on the ship. “This is it….” He walked up to the projection and began to look at it from different angles. “Helm, give me a wide angle, aft side. I want to see more of this thing.”
“Affirmative sir, wide angle, aft side,” the younger version of him said.
They increased speed and moved to the aft side of the alien ship. A murmur crept across the bridge crew when an unfamiliar symbol appeared spray-painted across the hull.
“They were tagged,” Naijen scoffed.
Mencari looked closer at the projection. Something else was there. “Can you zoom out just a bit? I want to get a better look at the symbol.”
Ghn’en waved to adjust the view. As more of the hull came into view, Mencari’s eyes opened wide. “There, under that symbol. There’s another—look—Nukari …”
Liren studied the image more carefully, then nodded. “I see it.”
“Why the ruse?” Seigie said,
“Well, maybe it’s someone else’s ship now?” Allia guessed.
Liren shook his head, “Something that big? They wouldn’t just give it to someone.”
Allia shrugged.
“Look at the condition,” Mencari said. “They aren’t the Nukari we know.”
Suddenly their hot lead on a massive Nukari ship felt more like a lead balloon. There couldn’t possibly be Nukari inside, at least not the ones they expected.
“Can we still attack if we don’t know who’s in there?” Cerna said.
The group looked to one another. Nikko was the first to speak. “How certain are we the Nukari aren’t in there?”
“Every time I’ve run into them, their mark has been clear,” Mencari said. “Even those beast versions have it on their uniforms.”
“Then why is this one covered?” Cogeni said.
“And falling apart,” Toriko added. “With an erratic course.”
Allia said, “Can we just talk to them?”
Ghn’en face twisted at the suggestion. “We’re a scout ship. If we send a communication to them, they’ll detect where we are.”
Liren added, “Regardless of their exterior appearance, their internal systems—including weapons, could be fully operational.”
“We do have shields,” Ghn’en reminded him.
Mencari shook his head. “But putting them up is universally a hostile act—”
“Sir, fleet command requesting status update.”
Hearing the sloth-like alien’s announcement, Ghn’en grunted in frustration. “Tell them we have visual confirmation and are determining recommended course of action.” He began to pace, grumbling, “We had everything planned out, except something like this. Suggestions, Liren?”
“I agree with Mencari, it doesn’t fit the Nukari profile,” Liren said.
Ghn’en huffed in defeat. “Fine, we’ll contact the ship. Use the standard protocols for first contact. Defense—be ready with those shields.”
An alarm sounded and the gruff woman warned, “Energy spike detected!”
Before they could react, an energy shield deployed around the alien vessel. Moments before clipping their scout ship, their own reactive shields activated. A collective yell rang around the cabin as the ship was repelled violently away.
Ghn’en howled as he grappled a bar against the wall to brace himself. The green color appeared to spin off everything around them, the normal color returning. The ship groaned at it stabilized.
“Send that message now! Before they blast us,” he yelled.
“Transmitting—narrowcast,” the sloth-being said.
The gruff woman added, “Energy signatures stabilized. No further build-ups detected.”
“Anything?” Liren asked.
The sloth-being shook his head. “Negative, sir.”
“Expand the broadcast,” Ghn’en commanded. “Universal standard dialect.”
Liren gestured toward the screen. “They did put their shields up, rather than firing on us.”
“If there’s even the slightest change in energy output, get us out of here,” Ghn’en snarled.
The group watched and waited. Each moment felt like an eternity.
Anxiety and anticipation danced across their brows. Mencari’s heart pounded in his throat. The bridge was tomb-silent, others lost in uncertainty of the moment.
“Nothing,” the gruff woman said.
“Multilingual every dialect we know,” Ghn’en ordered.
“Yes, sir. Narrowcast multilingual. Transmitting.”
Again the cabin fell silent. Mencari stared at the forward display, half-expecting to see a volley of blasts streak at them. He could hear his heart pound in his ears.
Images of the Coalition station immolating pushed to the forefront of his mind. The screams of his dying comrades in the first Nukari attack rang out, merciless. He remembered the ships that appeared out of nowhere: phased space.
His heart skipped. What if this ship wasn’t alone? What if there were other, phased ships escorting?
Finally a happy chime rang out, breaking his thoughts.
“Sir, I have an acknowledgement.”
Mencari took a deep breath.
“These Nukari—not usually big talkers?” Ghn’en said, half-serious, to Mencari.
Mencari shook his head. It didn’t seem their style, especially considering they’d been detected. It couldn’t be them. Maybe that’s a good thing?
“Confirmed, Tennada Greeting of Intent received.”
Now Liren relaxed. “They know about the Tennada agreements. This is looking good.”
“Maybe too good. Be careful,” Ghn’en cautioned.
Allia said, “What’s the Ten-odd-ah?”
Liren smiled at the girl’s attempt to pronounce it. “It’s a protocol followed in first-contact situations. This means they understand intergalactic law.…”
Along with the communications specialist, Liren and Mencari constructed a follow-up message. Over the next thirty minutes the two ships exchanged information, and agreed on a meeting.
* * * * *
“We’ll keep the com-line open,” Ghn’en said as Liren headed off the bridge.
Liren checked the tiny earpiece, tapping on it. He heard the gentle tone used to test broadcasts, and gave a thumbs-up before continuing with Mencari, Seigie, Naijen, Allia, and Ichini to the airlock.
Allia gasped as she came to the entrance of the corridor that connected the two ships.
“It’s beautiful!” In wide-eyed wonder, she carefully touched the clear, crystalline walls. Seigie, too, looked mesmerized by the sight. A mesh of hexagonal crystals created a glittering walkway, which flexed between the two ships. Along the floor, a yellow energy pulsed in channels that resembled arteries and capillaries. Beyond the crystal walls, from both ships shone an eerie light, a sign, Liren knew, their protective fields were still in place.
A Humanoid with dark coral skin, short locks of turquoise hair, and dressed in elaborate ivory colored robes,
appeared on the other side, flanked by lizard-like beings in combat armor and armed with rifles that pulsed with an angry energy. They proceeded with caution to the middle of the tunnel, where an energy barrier kept the two factions apart.
The robed man bowed, then spoke carefully. “I am Varen, of the Nomads. We welcome the Be’Inaxi.”
Ghn’en’s voice boomed through a small communicator in Liren’s ears, making him squint. “No one should know that.”
Liren returned the bow. “Thank you. I am Liren, second-in-command of this ship. You have us at a disadvantage, Varen. We do not know who you are.”
Varen gave a knowing smile, “Of course not. We are but Nomads who wander through space.”
Was that smugness in Varen’s smile, or a simple attempt to be friendly? Liren couldn’t tell. “With all due respect, you’re rather knowledgeable Nomads,” he said.
“We make it a priority to know who is in what space. Wandering into the wrong places can prove fatal. Chasing ships can, likewise, prove fatal.”
While the statement seemed like a bold threat, it was ultimately true. With careful intent, Liren bowed slightly, lowered his head, and replied with great sincerity, “We are sorry for any anxiety we might have caused. Our area of space has been compromised by hostile races and, as a result, we’ve taken precautions to determine who might be hostile before making our presence known.”
Varen nodded. “We have noticed the hostiles. We too have fended off a flurry of attacks. To your fortune, your craft was distinct from those encountered before.”
Liren restored his original stance. “May I enquire?”
Varen motioned to continue.
“Were they all of different types?”
Varen shook his head. “One style, varying sizes. Their persistence has been the most disturbing.”
“On your hull, there’s a very specific marking.”
Varen expression took on a fond look. “Of our nomadic tribe, yes.”
Liren shook his head. “No, I refer to the marking under your tribe’s symbol.”
Varen looked with uncertainty to one of his guards. “That is unfamiliar, please elaborate.”
“Under yours is a symbol that the hostile race that has entered our space.”
Varen’s eyes showed his curiosity.
D'mok Revival: The Nukari Invasion Anthology Page 59