Celestial Incursion

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Celestial Incursion Page 41

by Eddie R. Hicks


  “Will ya’ll be able to make it back to the Empire?”

  “We’ll need to make . . . more repairs, but we’ll be on our way in a day,” he said. “I trust your people won’t mind our ship lingering around for a while?”

  “I’ll pass it on.”

  Peiun bowed his head in a respectful manner. “Well then, farewell, Captain, and good luck.”

  “See ya around.”

  Peiun’s likeness dissolved into nothing as the view of his ship from the view screen shifted out of sight.

  “Alright, so,” Foster said, facing Williams. “What in the world were ya’ll doing on the surface of New Babylon?”

  “Long story . . .” Williams said with a chuckle. “What I’d like to know is, what in the world did you do to get your hands on this ship? And those tattoos?”

  Foster smirked at her first officer. “Long story.”

  Epilogue

  Imperial Palace

  Imperial Capital, Paryo, Uemaesce system

  August 14, 2118, 02:50 SST (Sol Standard Time)

  Peiun was dismayed at the destruction done to the Imperial Capital as a result of the invaders’ attack. He couldn’t remove the disturbing thoughts of how many young children and entire family lines were vaporized in an instant by the monstrous creatures that tore apart the fleets defending the homeworld of the Hashmedai race and fell into the cities from the skies.

  He rode a long elevator up into the center spire of the Imperial Palace, under escort by the Emperor and Empress’s personal guardian and protector. When the elevator came to an end, he was guided into a meeting room, carrying a small bag with him as ordered, for his debriefing. He braced himself for the numerous glowing eyes that were expected to gawk at him from the gathering of Imperial generals, admirals, and invited captains such as him, while the Emperor and Empress sat in and listened.

  The room he entered was dark with only a small central spotlight shining down on the circular table that was inside. His eyes began to glow red as his body stepped into the low lighting area, unable to see anyone else in the room, with the exception of one person. Empress Kroshka, who was sitting cross-legged at a large decorated chair reserved for her.

  “Thank you, Onatiasha, you may leave us now,” Kroshka said, dismissing her personal guardian, and leaving Peiun alone with the Empress.

  “Empress, it is an honor to be here in your presence,” Peiun said, taking a seat. “May I ask? Where is the Emperor and everyone else? I thought they would be joining us.”

  “The Emperor is busy for the time being,” Kroshka said.

  “And everyone else?”

  “They are not important.” Kroshka leaned forward, allowing the edge of the light shining down upon the table to bathe across her pale skin and platinum hair. “Did you bring it, Captain?”

  Peiun placed the bag on the table and slipped out from its confines a shiny silver-colored artifact. He pushed it close to Kroshka while she fixed her red-orange eyes upon it. “My team found this on the surface of the Poniga world, known as New Babylon; it was lying close to the transport you ordered us to capture.”

  “And you believe there is a connection to this and Captain Foster?”

  Peiun guided Kroshka’s attention to a number of hieroglyphs carved along the side of the artifact. “These markings here, they look exactly the same as the tattoos that appeared on Foster’s body against her will.”

  “The tattoos you claim allowed her to navigate your ship through the maelstrom, yes?”

  “That is correct, Your Majesty. Foster’s condition, this artifact, the maelstrom, and the invaders, are connected.”

  Kroshka pulled the artifact closer to her, lifting it next to her face before returning her attention back to Peiun. “And the transport?”

  “As I said in my report, we recovered it. It wasn’t easy with the number of UNE ships in the sector; thankfully, most had been severely damaged during the battle. The old transport is currently aboard my ship, give the order and I shall have it delivered to any location you desire.”

  “Keep it in your store for now,” Kroshka said. “I’m placing you in charge of locating the personnel that took that transport to the Sirius system.”

  Peiun looked puzzled. “Me?”

  “It was the mission of the former captain and first officer of the Rezeki’s Rage,” Kroshka said, gliding her fingers across the smooth surface of the artifact. “I’m passing that mission onto you and Alesyna. You will only report to me, should Admiral T’esih order you to do otherwise, tell her to speak with me.”

  “Understood.”

  Kroshka’s head curved to the side, examining him. “Your mother was Veloshira Snapshot correct?”

  “That is correct.”

  “Very well then, she did not fail the Empire when her time to serve it approached. I expect the same from you.”

  “I will carry out this mission and will not fail you.” Peiun stood and bowed before his Empress as she dismissed him from their meeting. He stopped seconds ahead of the exit. There was one last thing on his mind. “If I may, Empress.”

  “Yes?”

  “What is the importance of the personnel that took that transport and installed a human QEC onto it?”

  She reclined back on her decorated chair, folding her hands together and filled the room with silence before replying. “The operators of that transport arrived in the Sirius system during the moment the Carl Sagan and Abyssal Sword vanished, yet no Hashmedai has ever been reported to be seen there. The transport’s crew vanished with those two ships. Humans and Radiance aren’t the only groups that had people disappear that night, fellow Hashmedai did as well, important ones at that. I need you to find out where they went and bring them back.”

  XSV Johannes Kepler, Lab

  Terra Nova orbit, Sirius A system

  August 14, 2118, 18:08 SST (Sol Standard Time)

  “Well, look at you.”

  Odelea looked behind, then to her left and right. Nobody else was in the lab, and its doors had been shut. She returned to face the holographic projection of Iey’liwea, the Radiance Rabuabin representative, and cofounder of the Souyila Corporation. With the Johannes Kepler’s QEC linked to Amicitia Station 14, it gave Iey’liwea the perfect chance to catch up with Odelea in private.

  “The Captain of this ship has allowed me to stay for the time being,” Odelea said.

  “The Gods must really like you,” Iey’liwea’s miniature projection said. “Who are we to judge you for your actions?”

  “So, I will not be exiled?”

  “What’s the point? The humans will take you in then pluck your mind to advance their own people. With that said.”

  “Any major breakthroughs I uncover, I will be sure to share it with Souyila.”

  “I can live with that, just remember, so long as you remain a crewmember of that ship, you are not just representing the Union, but Souyila as well. Make us look good, will you?”

  “Is there anything else, Councilwoman?”

  “I’m transmitting some data I want you to look into. Keep that data away from your human friends for the time being.”

  “I understand, Councilwoman. May the Gods’ light shine upon you.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  Iey’liwea’s projection vanished as the transmission ended. Using her HNI, Odelea connected remotely to her computer terminal, accessing the encrypted documents and pictures Iey’liwea sent over their secure connection.

  One particular file caught Odelea’s attention as she swiped across the holo screen quickly during her review.

  It was the staff of a Patriarch, religious elders within the Union. Its design was consistent with the staffs Patriarchs had used during the Celestial Order wars. She sat back and picked up a fresh apple from a bowl resting on her desk and began to read through the long document, confused as to what the staff had to do with their current mission regarding the invaders.

  No, not invaders, they had a name. One she finally managed to tra
nslate. That reminds me, I need to speak with Captain Foster about that.

  General Irons’ Office

  Geneva, Earth, Sol system

  August 14, 2118, 19:13 SST (Sol Standard Time)

  Mathilda Chevallier crossed her arms and waited for the middle-aged man—by appearance—to finish reading the holo document in his hands. General Derek Irons of the EDF sighed and rubbed his face, placing the document back onto his desk decorated with photos of his family and medals he was awarded over the years, including some dating back before the Hashmedai invasion of Earth.

  “You’re serious about this, aren’t you?” Irons said to her.

  “I’m done,” said Chevallier. “I have no place in the military, not anymore, and not in this century. I want out.”

  Irons pushed the document, Chevallier’s official resignation from the navy, toward her. “Doesn’t sound to me like you’ve given it much thought, Chief.”

  “Then you’re wrong, I have.”

  “Your mother, and the PR that existed back in the day, isn’t here to protect you,” Irons said. “Gone are the days when the UNE was young, rebuilding Earth, and looking to recruit as many bodies as they could to replenish the military personnel killed during the Empire’s invasion. The navy doesn’t need you anymore.”

  “I get that, understand why I need out?” Chevallier said drily.

  “What you don’t get is that the navy would love nothing more than to bring up old charges you avoided and remind everyone of what you’ve done recently,” Irons harshly spoke. “Let me break it down for you. The navy will fuck you if you stay and fuck you on the way out if you leave. Take Boyd’s offer and mine, join the EDF, and I’ll personally see to it you’ll get treated right.”

  “I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want me around either.”

  “He’ll get over it, he’s old school like me. He was a Navy SEAL before we made the jump into space,” Irons said, and pointed to his medals earned when the United States used to exist. “And I was in the US army. What Earth lacks right now are people that were around before UNE, people that remembered what life was like when aliens and dragons didn’t exist. Those kinda folks have a real appreciation for Earth, humanity, and what was lost to get to where we are now. Yeah, you’re hot headed, don’t give a shit for the chain of command, but in the end, you want to get the job done and will do whatever it takes. That’s what we need out there, defending our colonies from fucking aliens.”

  Chevallier smirked. “I want my own team.”

  “That I can’t give to you just yet, there are still things you need to learn,” said Irons. “Master the gear EDF uses and I’ll see to it you get that and anything else you need. Master it without HNI? Hell, I’ll give you your own fucking ship if it means keeping our people safe. I just need you to follow orders.”

  “One last request.”

  “What is it?”

  “I want a pack of Cuban cigars; mine got trashed on the Carl Sagan.”

  Irons laughed. “Consider it done.”

  XSV Johannes Kepler

  Terra Nova orbit, Sirius A system

  August 15, 2118, 07:27 SST (Sol Standard Time)

  Captain Foster, Commander Williams, and Odelea stood next to the holographic projection of director Barker of the IESA within Foster’s office. Everyone’s attention had been locked onto a presentation Odelea put on depicting images of the various types of invaders seen thus far and the translation notes she made.

  “What I’m about to say will be covered in much greater detail within my report,” Odelea said, sliding her hands across the floating holo screen, changing the slide. “The invaders are in indeed a multispecies collective, they call themselves the Draconian. I am unsure if that is the name of their collective species or their nation. They firmly believe that everything we have, from our colonies to technological advances, originally belonged to them, and they want it back.”

  “Most likely a fib whoever was aboard the Abyssal Sword told ‘em,” Foster said.

  Barker’s hologram grimaced at Odelea’s presentation. “As I said earlier, Foster, you have full authority to carry out this mission any way you see necessary, the President himself also agrees. Find out everything you can about these . . . Draconions, leaders, homeworld, colonies, everything. Make peace with them if they are willing to listen as planned.”

  “Of course, sir,” Foster said.

  “But, in the case peace isn’t an option, then you are to bring back any pieces of advanced technology they use and report back to us the size and strength of their forces,” Barker said. “If it’s going to boil down to all-out war, I think the navy would like the heads-up and the chance to level the playing field by installing their weapons onto our ships.”

  “Will do, Director.”

  “Good luck out there, Captain, we’re all counting on you.”

  Barker cut the transmission, leaving Odelea’s presentation as the only holograms in operation in Foster’s office.

  Williams snorted. “Yeah, no pressure or anything.”

  “I think the real pressure is on Nereid,” Foster said.

  “That Dragon Knight and Maiden are to Tiamat, what Jesus is to God,” Williams said.

  “And we’s stringing her along on a mission where she might have to choose between her faith and us.”

  “Yeah, in which one of us might have to choose between allowing her to follow her faith and pointing a gun at her,” Williams said, rubbing the bruise on his forehead. “If this is all a misunderstanding and we prove that, I think she’ll be fine in the long run. Hell, Nereid might be able to help us push for peace.”

  “And if everything goes to shit, then what?”

  Williams grimaced. “She’ll gut this ship from the inside out with her mind, in the name of Tiamat.”

  Odelea cleared her throat, folding her hands before her waist. Foster gave her the attention she sought. “So, is this it then, Captain?” Odelea said. “Am I to return back to my people?”

  Foster’s lips twisted while she recalled the fact that Odelea’s presence on board was merely a trial run, one she royally screwed up. Her experiment nearly got her killed, only to escape, meaning it was entirely pointless for it to have been brought aboard in the first place.

  “Let me get some grub first,” Foster said. “I ain’t had anything decent to eat since coming out of cryo.”

  Much better . . . Foster’s thoughts and her belly agreed at the same time upon finishing a freshly cooked meal by Chef Demarion Bailey, the first of many in the Johannes Kepler’s mess hall. She strode over to the galley where Bailey, now clean-shaven, went to work cleaning up the food preparation area. She offered him her compliments for a wonderful meal, feeling thankful he returned to travel with the new ship and crew. Who am I kidding? I’m glad everyone we managed to find is back.

  On her way to the bridge, Foster made a pass by sickbay and took a quick glance at Doctor Kostelecky as she activated newly received medical equipment, designed for use with doctors that lacked HNI. Foster walked across the catwalk above the cargo hold and smiled watching Rivera and Saressea stand next to each other with holo pads in their hands. Saressea was giving Rivera a quick update on what she needed to know about the technical specs of the Johannes Kepler.

  Williams kept the captain’s chair warm for Foster when she arrived on the bridge to take command. Nereid and Tolukei stood ready at their psionic station and gave Foster a nod when she walked past. Pierce analyzed data collected by Johannes Kepler during their escapade into the maelstrom and the chemical composition of the mysterious substance they managed to acquire for themselves as a result of that.

  Behind Pierce was the communication officer’s station. Odelea sat at it, dressed in an IESA casual uniform that didn’t fit her skinny frame very well. “Odelea, you ready?” Foster said as she approached her.

  “EVE has shown me how this station works,” Odelea said, double-checking her station’s instruments. “I never imagined myself serving as a communi
cation officer on a ship before, however.”

  “If anyone is gonna hold this down it’s gonna be the girl that can speak over six thousand languages,” Foster said.

  Odelea serving part-time as the communication officer was the deal the two managed to strike, since Pierce was the science officer. The move allowed both Pierce and Odelea to share the lab as one of the two would probably be on the bridge busy with their duties. And it gave Foster’s mind a certain ease, knowing that bizarre experiments weren’t going to be conducted every waking moment Odelea was around, especially after she read her files and past history.

  Foster took her seat, and Williams returned to his station, interacting with a three-dimensional projection of their corner of the Milky Way galaxy.

  “Mr. Chang, are we ready to take our leave?” Foster said to him.

  Chang nodded while his hands stood ready to input a new course. “Ready and waiting, Captain.”

  “Alright, ya’ll,” Foster said, addressing her crew. “The galaxy is depending on us to pull this off. So, let’s get out there and find out where these critters came from and our lost memories.”

  “Course, Captain?”

  “Over yonder that way,” Foster said, pointing to a cluster of stars on the view screen. “Let’s find ourselves a short cut to the edge of the galaxy.”

  Next time on Splintered Galaxy...

  Captain Foster and her human and Radiance crew of the XSV Johannes Kepler continue to scour the galaxy for clues to the location of the Draconian homeworld. Meanwhile, the Empire, feeling left out, extends an offer for the Johannes Kepler to use one of their most remote colonies as a staging point to search an uncharted region of the Milky Way.

  That’s when xenophobic human soldiers spring to action.

  Upset that the Johannes Kepler mission is one of peace rather than war, these rogue soldiers take it upon themselves to hijack the Johannes Kepler, and turn its mission of peace and recon, into a genocide war against all species that committed violent actions against humanity. Starting with the Hashmedai.

 

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