More screams followed sounds of coughing and choking.
Ma’har roared with anger at the anguish his crewmate was suffering.
“We must hurry,” Tira, the Empress’ helm officer urged. “Lest they will send Ker to Revein’sev!”
“Yes, Ma’har,” Getera agreed, “We need our navigator!”
“Here!” Ma’har finally returned a smile, “Everyone, gather behind me. Form an Antarian wall and we can force our way out!”
The Antarians formed a grouping behind Ma’har and began pushing on the wall.
Ker slumped in the chair, relaxing his grip on his restrains.
“Is he still alive?” Lieutenant Smith asked.
Sergeant Clausen stepped back to allow Sergeant Pete Simpson to check his pulse.
“Well, at least one of his hearts is beating; there is a pulse.”
“Tell me the rate?”
“Well, I don’t know Antarian physiology so much, but it’s beating at around sixty plus beats per minute.”
The door slid open, and a newly promoted Lt. Commander Cory McCartney stepped into the room.
“What’s going on in here?” he demanded.
“None of your business, Ensign,” Lieutenant Clausen warned.
“That’s Lieutenant Commander to you, Lieutenants!”
Noticing Cory’s new rank, Lieutenant Smith stood to attention and gave him a salute, “Sorry, Sir. I didn’t know, Sir.”
“Now, I’ll ask you all once more. What’s going on in here?”
“We’re interrogating the prisoners, Sir,” Smith answered.
“On who’s authority?”
“Admiral Gilmore himself, Sir.”
“Did he mention torture as part of your methods of interrogation?”
“Not specifically, Sir, No.”
“What were your orders, Lieutenant?”
“He said we should beef up our integration protocols, Sir.”
“Did I hear the words torture anywhere in that sentence, Lieutenants?”
“No Sir,” the two answered in unison.
The Antarian jerked at his restraints and broke one arm free. He roared as he swung his arm at Sergeant Simpson, knocking him across the room.
Ker yanked his other arm and both legs free in another second. Sergeant Clausen grabbed for his side arm and took aim, Ker grabbed the metal table in front of him and held it up as Clausen emptied his gun. The table deflected the bullets and Ker charged the Humans at full speed, plowing them down with the table. He stepped over the fallen bodies, bending to pick up a human weapon from the floor. Then he ducked through the open door and into the corridor.
A loud crash was heard. Ker looked up to see his comrades breaking through the cell wall.
Ma’har ran up to Ker, “Are you all right, my Lord?”
“Yes, I will be fine,” Ker answered
Alarms began to blare and red strobes in the corridors flashed.
“Come on, this way!” Ma’har motioned with one arm.
Ker took point holding the metal table as a shield for the group. They rounded the south corner and met with several humans who immediately opened fire. The table deflected the bullets from the escaping Antarians.
More human soldiers met them at the east corridor. Some of the Antarians split off, charging them.
A few swift swings of Antarian fists eliminated the new threat.
Ker advanced, holding the metal table at an angle to deflect the bullets. Many bounced off, but some penetrated. The Antarians returned fire, taking out the troops. Ker tossed the table aside and pointed to a room,
“There!” Ma’har ordered, “It appears to be a computer room. We might be able to send a message from there.” Ma’har held out his hand and stopped several Antarian from entering the room, “split off,” he instructed. “We over heard them talking about a ship that’s being overhauled. Commandeer that ship; it should have minimal personnel on board.”
The Antarians nodded and took off down the south corridor. Ma’har entered the room and sealed the door behind him.
Getera looked up, “This console is tied into the communications array.”
“We need to seal off this side of the complex,” Ma’har instructed.
“Take the console behind me, Lord Ma’har.”
“These systems are unprotected,” Ma’har grinned, “I will have no trouble isolating this wing.”
“You must hurry, my Lord, lest more Humans arrive!”
The room turned silent, followed by another crooked smile from Ma’har, “I have terminated the alarm and sealed the corridor. The only Humans we shall have to deal with are those on board that ship.”
“Excellent, my Lord,” Getera nodded, “I have transmitted a message to any Antarian ship that may be left in this sector. This equipment is too primitive to reach Antares.”
“That figures,” Ma’har balked.
“Inferior puny Humans,” Tira muttered.
A comm link rang at Getera’s station, “Message from our men, my Lord. They have secured the ship. They’re ready for us to board.”
“Tell them we’ll be right there. I have a little surprise for these Humans,” Ma’har laughed.
“Yes, my Lord.”
“All right,” Ma’har moved from the console. “Open those doors. We can head to the ship now.”
The Antarians followed Ma’har down the corridor, Ker caught up to him, “What did you do to the Humans, my Lord?”
“I’m venting the station’s atmosphere. That will keep them busy as we steal their ship.”
“Very nice, my Lord,” Ker smiled through his crooked teeth, and then sealed the hatch to the ship.
“Follow the red line. That should lead to the bridge,” Ma’har instructed.
They trotted to the ship’s control room where the rest of the Antarians were waiting.
“Tira,” Ma’har ordered, pointing at the various stations, “Take the helm. Ker, navigation is there. Getera, it appears you have found the communications stations, most excellent. What happened to the Humans?”
“They fled when they saw us coming. They were not warriors, my Lord, merely technicians. There was no resistance. We have the ship.”
“Since I am the high ranking Antarian, I shall take command of our acquired ship,” Ma’har ordered.
The others bowed to his authority, “Yes, my Lord.”
“The ship’s docking clamps are still attached, my Lord.”
“Retract them!”
“I cannot, my Lord. They are trying to override our commands.”
“Helm! Full reverse thrusters! Tear them off if you have too!”
Tira studied the console for a moment, “Yes, my Lord. I have an understanding of how this ship works now,” she pressed a few commands on the comparatively small buttons to her fingers and then grabbed the throttle and inched it forward.
The ship rocked as the ship’s thrusters fired full reverse. Flames burned the station docking port and the docking clamps tore from the station’s anchors.
“We’re free of the station, my Lord!” Tira reported.
“Ahead full power!” Ma’har instructed, “Navigation, set course for the corridor!”
“Programming coordinates now, my Lord,” Ker said.
“They’re lunching fighters!”
“Is their jump drive active?”
“Jump drive is online, my Lord.”
“Prepare for emergency jump!”
“Course set, my Lord. Thirty seconds before jump!”
“Get the mains online and get us some distance from those fighters! Arming weapons and targeting the station!” Ma’har yelled, “Firing!”
Admiral Gilmore arrived at the M-BOC, alarms ringing in the crews’ ears, “What the hell’s going on!” Gilmore shouted.
“The Antarians have broken out of their holding cells!” the M-BOC’s tactical officer reported, “They’ve stolen the Aga, Sir!”
“They’ve what!?”
“The Aga, Sir
, they were able to steal the ship! They’re charging weapons, Sir!”
“Brace for impact!” Admiral Gilmore ordered.
“We’ve got more problems, Sir!”
The base rocked as three missiles struck the central complex. The Diamond reinforced glass cracked above their heads.
“We’re venting atmosphere, Sir!”
“Close all emergency bulkheads! Get emergency power online, now!”
“The Aga jumped away, Sir!”
“Can we alert the fleet standing by the corridor?”
“No, Sir, our signals take twenty minutes unless we send an ACE ship.”
“By the time we can get them launched, it’ll be too late to warn them,” Gilmore somberly said.
“I’m afraid it’s already too late, Sir. They’re already at the coordinates.”
“They stole my ship!” Gilmore cursed.
“Sorry, Sir. I’ll file a full report, Sir.”
“I want that on my desk within the hour. Start repairing the station’s damage.”
________________________
Sol System
Corridor Event Horizon
________________________
Trygg Rothgarson came to his first officer’s side when the unscheduled ship jumped into the corridor’s sector.
“What the devil’s Admiral Gilmore doing with the Agamemnon?” Commander Styr Valbrandrson, the Draconian fist officer, asked.
“I don’t know,” Trygg answered, “Hail them.”
“I’ve been trying, Sir. No answer.”
“What’s their course and speed?”
“He’s heading straight to the Event Horizon at one-quarter speed, Sir.”
“Check the manifest again,” Trygg ordered, “Make sure you didn’t overlook something.”
“I checked twice, Sir, there’s nothing. The Aga wasn’t scheduled for flight until tomorrow.”
“Let me try. Open a channel.”
“Aye, Sir. Channel open.”
“Attention, Agamemnon, this is the Draconian flagship, Primrose, please respond.”
“They are receiving, Sir, just not answering.”
“Do you have time to program a drone and send it through to the Betelgeuse fleet? I’d like to warn them ahead of time the Admiral’s on his way.”
“They’re increasing speed and charging weapons, Sir!”
“Shields up! Battle Stations! Engage that ship, I repeat, engage that ship!”
“They’re launching a volley of missiles at us, Sir!”
“Evasive!”
The Draconian helmsman turned the ship away from the speeding Agamemnon.
“Launch countermeasures!”
“Countermeasures away, Sir!”
“Can you launch the drone?”
“Not enough time, Sir, They’re slipping through the corridor!”
“Fire everything we’ve got!”
“They’re gone, Sir!”
“Helm, change course and pursue! Maximum speed!”
“Aye, Sir, maximum speed. We’ll cross the Event Horizon in thirty seconds, Sir.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
________________________
Betelgeuse Sector
Corridor Event Horizon
________________________
“We’re exiting the corridor, my Lord.”
“Steady the helm, Tira.”
“Yes, my Lord, holding course and speed.”
Ma’har studied his console and looked out toward the bow of the ship, “I’m scanning multiple ships. So far, they are not paying any attention to us. Total count is three-hundred ships. Engine signatures show two-hundred Centaurian, fifty Eridonian, and a mix of fifty ships from Alpha Aquilae and the Tau Ceti systems.”
“We are being hailed, my Lord. It’s the Captain of the Bristol.”
“Put it on, but do not respond.”
The radio crackled and then came to life with a jubilant sounding voice, “Admiral Gilmore, Captain McCartney. It’s a pleasure to see you, Sir.”
Ma’har held his index finger to his lips and whispered, “Navigation? Is your destination set?”
“Yes, my Lord,” Ker answered.
“Helm, continue course and speed... steady now... We’ve got about thirty seconds before we have company behind us, and they alert this fleet of our true intentions.”
“Admiral Gilmore, come in please. Admiral, do you copy?” The speakers continued.
“Increase speed, but hold your course,” Ma’har instructed, “We’re nearly to the far side of this fleet.”
“Yes, my Lord, increasing speed to one-half impulse.”
“My Lord, this ship’s jump drive will not be spooled for ninety seconds.”
The radio again crackled, “Agamemnon, Bristol, please respond. Decrease speed and come about!”
“There is our friend from Sol Sector, exiting the Event Horizon,” Ma’har smiled. “I’ve got a little surprise for you...”
“My Lord, they’re arming weapons and moving to intercept,” Tiar reported.
“Maximum speed!” Ma’har growled, “Arming weapons system now! Firing point defense guns now!”
The Agamemnon’s full battery extended on each side of the hull and opened fire with its deadly exploding rounds. A fire ball erupted on both sides of the stolen ship as Tiar pushed the ship’s throttle control to full power.
“They’re turning about!” Ma’har shouted, “NAV, report!”
“Thirty seconds, my Lord!”
“They are launching fighters, my Lord,” Ker reported.
Ma’har pressed more commands on his console bringing the ship’s rear turrets online.
“Fire! Damn these Human Gorechs!”
Another command rang over the comm link, “Come about and power down your weapons!”
“Turn that channel off!”
“Yes, my Lord, all communications have been cut.”
“The fighters are closing, my Lord.”
“Ten seconds, my Lord,” Ker counted.
At the five second mark, Ma’har pressed more commands bringing the turrets and PDS offline.
“Jump the ship! Jump the ship, now!”
Ker pressed the command sending the Agamemnon across the fabric of space, ending up in perfect orbit around Serintin.
“All weapons are off line!” Ma’har shouted.
“Helm steady your course and stabilize our orbit. Getera, it is imperative you make contact with the high council at once, lest we have our own warriors sending us to Revein’sev!”
“These frequency codes are old and outdated to our standards, my Lord. I am working on it as quickly as possible.”
“In the meantime, they have dispatched three warships to intercept.”
“How long before they arrive, my Lord?”
“Two minutes,” Ma’har answered, “How much time do you need, Getera?”
“It is impossible to tell, my Lord.”
“Ker, plot our escape coordinates, and spool the jump drive in case Getera needs more time than two minutes.”
“One minute now, my Lord,” Ker reported, “New coordinates plotted, spooling FTL for emergency jump... standing by, my Lord.”
“Getera, they are arming weapons...do not Roh’lojech for too long!”
“Thirty seconds, my Lord!”
“Steady as she goes, Tiar. Make no sudden movements. Hold your orbit.”
“Almost got it, my Lord.”
“Fifteen seconds, my Lord!”
“They have weapons locked, Getera...”
Getera pressed a final sequence on her command console, “Got it, my Lord! Channel open!”
“Five seconds, my Lord!”
“This is Ma’har of the Empress’ flagship of the Rising Star Antares. I call the high council. We have escaped Human captivity!”
“They are responding, my Lord,” Getera sighed.
The overhead speaker’s crackle ended with a raspy, yet firm voice, “Alien ship! Identify security protocol res
ponse to confirm.”
“My faithful communications officer, Getera will be glad to make the proper response. You must afford us some time as this alien ship’s equipment has antiquated technology.”
“I have the code programmed, my Lord.”
“My officer reports she is ready to transmit. Please provide the frequency to the high command.”
“They are sending the code, my Lord.”
“Transmit the response when ready, Getera.”
“Yes, my Lord, transmitting now!”
A few uncomfortable moments passed when Ma’har grew a worried look, “Have they responded?”
“No, my Lord, no response.”
“Open the channel,” Ma’har ordered, “Who’s running the show down there?”
“They have accepted my response, my Lord.”
“The warships are standing down; weapons lock terminated.”
The comm link came to life, “This is the command center; please identify again who you are?”
“I am Ma’har, Empress Danielle’s tactical officer and acting commanding officer of this stolen alien vessel. Who is in charge? I must have audience immediately!”
“I do confirm your security codes as being that of the Empress’ flagship.”
“Who is this I am speaking to?”
“I am Laboolaron of the House of Serintin and elite guard for Lord Dumakas.”
Ma’har protested, “Lord Dumakas was killed at Storm Keep!”
“He was returned from Revein’sev. He has been given Emergency Powers until we confirm where the Empress is. Can you tell me if the Empress is alive? Is she with you?”
“No, we do not know if my Empress has traveled to Revein’sev. She is not with us.”
“I will arrange for you to have audience with Lord Dumakas.”
“Thank you, my Lord.”
“It is simply Laboolaron for the moment. We will send landing coordinates close to the Palace. Set the ship down and our teams will begin to examine the alien technology.”
“There is not much technology to examine, Laboolaron, but they are welcome to look it over if you enjoy tight quarters.”
“Stand by, Lord Ma’har. The coordinates are being transmitted now. I do look forward to seeing you soon.”
Ma’har turned to Tira, “Helm, break orbit and head to our landing coordinates when you have them.”
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