Armageddon's Pall Page 3

  “I’ve got the fleet on scanners now,” Arion reported as Blazer flew them all but blind through a dense dust cloud.

  The ting of a piece of debris piercing Blazer’s lit up navigational deflector made him cringe. Due to the small crew load of their frigate home, he had secondary duty maintaining their fighters. He dreaded to see how much dust and debris his craft alone collected. “Copy that. How long before we’re in the…”

  Before Blazer could finish he shot free of the dust cloud and into open space. The Gorvian Monitoring Fleet hung before him, bathed in red filtered light from the nearby star. On the fringes of the fleet waited their home, the UCSBS Mercy, a Goit Class frigate of Shinekian design. Even after serving on it for a tridec he still shivered at its appearance. The almost organic texture of its armor-plated brown hull made it look less like a ship than some form of giant spacefaring squid/insect hybrid. The main hull was ellipsoid in shape but tapered off in a long tail which extended out past the engine stalks. Four more secondary hulls were spaced equidistant around the main hull. Each resembled a slimmer, tailless version of the primary. The fore and aft ends of each hull carried beam cannon emitters, the glowing domes reminding Blazer of eyes. From the rear of the main hull four tentacle-like stalks arced away, terminating in a pair of powerful engines. Blazer swore that he saw the ship breath sometimes.

  “UCSBS Mercy, Monstero Nach Zero Three, Flight of six, requesting.”

  A guttural voice that almost sounded like someone drowning responded. “Go ahead Nach Three.”

  “Requesting permission to dock. Priority clearance to Nach’s Four and One Zero due to combat damage.”

  “Say again Nach Three. You encountered and engaged enemy forces?”

  “Confirmed. We encountered a flight of four Gorvian recon fighters, all of which have been eliminated. We managed detailed scans of one craft for analysis.”

  “Copy that. You are cleared to dock.”

  “You heard him. Four, One Zero, move on ahead.”

  Blazer held back as Marda and Zithe maneuvered their fighters in close to their mothership. Drifting up from behind, they closed on one of the secondary hulls where a pair of hatches opened and a universal docking claw emerged from both. Technicians from at least three different races flooded out of Marda’s hatch after the claw had grabbed hold. Plasma torches glowed as they cut the Gorvian arm free of her ship before the docking claw retracted.

  Within a few pulses they’d all docked and Blazer proceeded to shut down his fighter with Arion. It wasn’t a surprise at all when Tadeh Qudas appeared in the hangar. Even his intimidating skull-faced death helm couldn’t overshadow the black, duwn-terror inspired exoskeleton of the ship’s Shinekian captain.

  Blazer swallowed hard and opened his canopy as they approached, the maintenance technicians already swarming. “Report Vaughnt,” Tadeh Qudas ordered.

  “Sir, Ma’am. We encountered a flight of four Gorvian recon fighters while on patrol. We managed to splash all four of them, and tag the debris for retrieval.”

  Tadeh Qudas turned to Captain Wynad. The depressions where Blazer would expect to find eyes were haunting in their emptiness. “That makes what, four patrols that have encountered recon craft?”

  The captain nodded, the massive spikes emerging from the back of her skull carapace wiggling. “At least. There may be a Gorvian capital ship in-system, which means they know we’re here and are stepping up their efforts to find us,” she replied in a similar drowning voice as the flight controller had had.

  “But why?” Blazer asked. “I mean the Gorvians have always tried to avoid contact with the monitoring fleet when they go on their raiding missions. Why try and engage us now?”

  “Perhaps to gauge our strength,” she gurgled. “Or because they’re looking for the weakest defended system in the Monitoring Fleet’s patrol before a larger fleet movement.”

  “Whatever the case might be,” Tadeh Qudas added. “The fleet needs to know what’s going on inside Gorvian Space. Therefore, we are preparing for a recon in force of several Gorvian systems.”

  “About time,” Arion grumbled as he freed himself from his seat. “Let’s take the battle to them,” the big man continued, “teach them what it’s like to lose loved ones.”

  “Keep focused Officer Scotts,” the Captain admonished. “Do not let a thirst for revenge cloud your judgment.” The captain turned back to Blazer. “I’ll expect a full debrief and report before the end of the cycle, understood?”

  “Yes ma’am!”

  UCSB Date: 1003.101

  Bridge, UCSBS Nosh'Tak, Nimbus System

  Admiral Quin Tosh reveled in how the refit of her ship’s bridge made her feel. Looking around, she’d be hard pressed to think that they were nestled in the heart of a two-century old battleship. The Nosh’Tak was the last remaining Cali’Fain Class battleship. These ships had proved instrumental in the last conflict against the Gorvian, but high command had phased them out early in the war with the Galactic Federation. Aside from the new sensors and weapon systems covering its hull, the exterior of the ship was visually indistinct from when it had last faced the Gorvians.

  The interior was a different matter. Holographic displays filled every work space, old style airtight hatches had made way for auto doors and phase walls. A more powerful and efficient power core had even replaced the original heart of the ship. But the biggest changes had come about on the Command Center and bridge. Redesigned to be a fleet command vessel, the Nosh’tak now featured a full holographic tactical information center rivaling any fleet command center. From there, Admiral Quin Tosh could oversea her entire fleet at a glance no matter where they were in the three star systems. The place she loved most however was the bridge.

  Sensor Imagery Systems, like those fitted to most fighters, now made up the walls, ceiling and even the floor of her chamber. The Command Center just a few frames away was so artificial in its representation of surrounding space that it kept her grounded. Here, she felt hard pressed to not imagine that she was floating outside her ship; only the pull of the gravity plating and the presence of her crew at their stations surrounding her reminded her where she really was. Even then, it felt surreal to see them seeming to float in space around her.

  Beyond her crew, her fleet were gathered around her ship. Apart from a handful of cruisers and their escort patrolling the other systems surrounding Gorvian Space, they were all here. Not bad for an engineer who almost got herself discharged on her first assignment, she mused. If my old crew could see me now. A shiver ran the full length of her spine, from the nape of her neck down her back and across her croup to the tip of her tail, at that thought. She was one of the few on the engineering crew of that ship to escape the immolation by plasma fire that had erupted in the heart of the ship before its destruction. She shook the thought aside when a section of space on the deck to her left disappeared. A moment later, the ship’s captain climbed the ladder well from the Command Center.

  She waited for the four-armed Otlian to approach. “Admiral, we have the data you requested ready for you.”

  “I’ll be right there,” she replied and stood up from her seat; ambling sideways to get out of the seat designed for her Borekian form. She stood for a moment, stretching her four legs, and looked to her aide. The young officer ran up and extended his macomm, a mirror application on its face revealing her countenance. She had to make sure she looked as professional as possible before meeting with the intelligence analysts. She blew out through her twin slit nostrils between her eyes, her slit pupils narrowing at the sight of her mane. She had at least a dozen hairs out of place. Reaching up, she poked them back then tugged down on her uniform jacket to remove any wrinkles.

  To his credit, Captain Gihlik didn’t say a word as he waited. As the Admiral finished however, he extended a hand and led her to the ladder well.

  She climbed down it with ease, her paw-like feet taking to the steep stairs like she was born to them. Were the situation more urgent she would hav
e remained in her command seat and ridden it down into the spherical space ‘beneath’ her bridge. Thanks to the design of this, and most space-borne craft, the deck arrangement had the floor in line with its aft bulkhead.

  When she reached the catwalk extending into the chamber, the Admiral turned to her staff. Holograms of the three known Gorvian systems floated immediately before her. She made a show of examining each. None of them looked remarkable by any means. That one didn’t appear stable, with planets winking in and out of existence, which piqued her interest. “Well gentlemen, have we picked a target?”

  The intel analysts exchanged glances. The highest ranking amongst them, a newly reassigned, Anulian O-40 stepped forward. “Ma’am, as you know, getting reliable data on any Gorvian system is, ah, difficult at best. Probes must move fast enough to avoid the sentry satellites before they can shoot them down. Even then we rarely get reliable data.”

  “I know that Officer Krade. Now tell me what you have found out.”

  “Well ma’am, we’ve detected fleet movements in all three of these systems. We’ve managed to attach probes to the hulls of several returning Gorvian Strike Corvettes that have been harassing Confed space. We’ve noticed an increasing number of Gorvian ships headed home for some reason.”

  Quin Tosh examined the holograms and the numbers of ships in each system. If they were accurate then the Gorvians had a distinct advantage when it came to numbers. She counted at least five ships to every one of hers. Yet as she looked at the holograms she continued to find herself drawn to the glitching projection. “What’s going on with this system - bad data?”

  “No ma’am,” Officer Krade replied. “What we have here are the data readouts from multiple probes. There are inconsistencies between their readings.”

  “What kind of ‘inconsistencies’?”

  An officer, with the navigator’s logo on his collar, a sextant overlaid on a planet, approached. “Ma’am, the number of planets and moons has changed between probes that we were able to insert in annura past and the last probes we’ve inserted over the last few tridecs.”

  Admiral Quin Tosh looked back at the hologram and noted the date stamps. The first image showed four rocky worlds and three gas giants surrounded by multiple moons of various sizes. The second image from a tridec earlier had only three rocky worlds, or at least only their gravity signatures. The latest from a decle earlier had revealed that three of the largest gas giant’s moons were no longer there. Despite that, the overall mass of the planetary system had increased by several billion tons, as if another large moon had taken orbit there. “Is this correct?”

  “We’ve checked it several times, ma’am. The readings are accurate.”

  “Could it be that they’re testing the super weapon which destroyed Sog’Reuv Four?

  The intelligence officers exchanged glances then Officer Krade stepped up. “We believe so ma’am. There’s an object inside the ring system of Tib’Trim 5 that wasn’t there before,” he explained, highlighting the massive object.

  Admiral Quin Tosh stepped away from the group, considering the information. This is the first indication since Sog’Reuv of where that monster might be. But its mass - how could any single race build something of that scale?

  “Admiral, we can’t be sure of anything at this point,” another officer commented. “There was extremely heavy jamming and the signal wasn’t the cleanest.”

  Admiral Quin Tosh spun about to face the man and reared up on her hind legs. “Explain!”

  Officer Krade stepped between them. “Admiral, it’s true that there was heavy jamming, but the gravitic scans were accurate. Unfortunately, as you know, gravitic scanners can’t give you much more than the mass of an object. We were unable to get any electromagnetic, tachyon, or optical scans.”

  Quin Tosh dropped back down onto all four of her feet and approached the hologram again. “It’s our best lead to date on the location of this super weapon. We’ve been planning a recon in force for over a tridec, and it looks like we finally have our target. We cannot afford to wait and have the super weapon leave the system. You have three hects to draw up a plan of action and assign your task force.”

  Ward Room, UCSBS Mercy, Nimbus System

  “I’ve just come from the captain’s office,” Blazer announced, taking a seat at the Blade Force’s table. “The Admiral in charge of the fleet has announced we’ll be engaging in our first force recon next cycle.”

  “About time,” Zithe growled.

  “Where are we heading?” Arion asked.

  Blazer met his WSO’s eyes. “The Tib’Trim System. Matt, can you tell us anything about it?”

  Matt shrugged. “Data on Gorvian-controlled systems is limited at best.” He leaned back for a moment, his eyes flashing as he looked up the system on his micomm implant. He shook his head a moment later. “I’m not seeing anything remarkable about it. Four rocky worlds, three gas giants and two, maybe three, large jump points.”

  Blazer considered that last point for a moment. “Command thinks that the Gorvian super weapon, whatever it is, is there,” he announced.

  Everyone at the table stopped and stared.

  “Not exactly the news I wanted to hear either,” Blazer said. “Command wants to get a look at the thing. So, they’re sending us in with three carrier battle groups.”

  Mikle let out a low whistle. “Damn, which ones?”

  “We’ll have a full brief before we launch next cycle. All I know is that we’ll stay attached to our current task force and provide escort for the Mercy while it escorts the UCSBS Robial.”

  “The ship we should have been aboard,” Zithe growled.

  “We’ve all heard enough of that Zithe,” Arion replied, his voice still as emotionless as the computer made him sound when beneath the shroud.

  Blazer looked over at his WSO. The death of his girlfriend Alieha was still weighing upon him. Even though he’d shown some improvement of late, their recent contact with the Gorvian fighters seemed to have pushed him back into the shell he’d constructed around his hearts. “Look, right now we are officially on crew rest. Finish your meals and get some rack time. We brief at 0400 next cycle.”

  Gavit groaned at that news. “Seriously? I had a date planned for later.”

  “Keep it in your pants,” Chris snapped. “The mission comes first.”

  “I realize that Chris,” Gavit replied. “But it’s already 2100, that means we need to head straight to our racks, pretty much now.”

  “It’s unavoidable,” Blazer said, slapping the table. “Now get some grub and get to bed.”

  Personnel Quarters 413, UCSBS Mercy

  Blazer rubbed his tired eyes. He’d been looking over the intel report on the Tib’Trim System on his father’s old macomm. It lacked in detail, but told him enough to be worried. The defensive sentry satellites which guarded the jump point were no joke. Assuming they survived those, the heavy jamming in the system would mandate a close flyby of wherever the super weapon was hidden. Without even knowing which of the seven planets it might orbit, he had no idea what the slipstream travel time would be. As a result, he had no way of estimating how long they’d have to guard the Mercy.

  “Blazer,” Marda called from the refresher station alcove. “Are you still awake?”

  Closing the cover on the older notebook style device, he set it down on a small shelf above his side of the bed. “Yeah, next cycle could get really ugly.”

  “I’d rather not think about that right now,” she replied, her shapely form silhouetted against the fold away partition wall.

  Blazer noticed something missing. He could see no ethereal glow from any spirit orb companions. As a medium, the quantum essence that could remain after a person died were Marda’s near constant companion. Aboard a medical ship with as long a history as the Mercy, such trapped souls were commonplace. For the first time he could recall, there were none in their room. “We seem to be alone. None of our dead friends hanging about.”

  Marda s
tuck her head out from the partition. “I asked them to give us some privacy,” she announced before stepping out.

  Blazer felt at a loss for words. The sheer negligée Marda wore was of the type that he’d only seen in pornography. While it covered everything, it only just did so. The intricate patterned lace that wove through the almost translucent material covering areolas, and even the nubs of her vestigial nipples before meeting to obscure her crotch. ,

  Blazer felt himself rise to the occasion and sat upright to watch as Marda took slow, methodical steps towards him. Each step just hinted at what the dress concealed, hardening his excitement. As soon as Marda came within reach, Blazer grabbed hold of his wife and pulled her in close, kissing her. “Do you have some motives here I should be aware of?” he asked when he came up for breath.

  “We go off to battle next cycle,” Marda replied, straddling his lap. “And I want to remind you what you have to come back to.”

  “You never have to remind me of that,” he said, and leaned in close to kiss her neck, right below the ear.

  Marda moaned in pleasure before Blazer felt her reach into his shorts and tickle the tip of his manhood. “Maybe I’m reminding myself then,” she said and pushed Blazer back.

  Blazer grabbed Marda and pulled her down on top of him, kissing her again. “We will both come back. I promise you that. I love you Marda.”

  “I love you too Schan,” she replied and proceeded to kiss her way down his chest.

  UCSB Date: 1003.102

  Monstero Nach 03, Hyperspace en-route to Tib’Trim System

  Waiting in his cockpit, Blazer took a deep breath to center himself and calm his nerves. For the first time since its inception two centuries earlier, the monitoring fleet was on the offensive. The Mercy creaked around them as it raced through hyperspace; the two onboard fighter squadrons waiting in their docking claws.

  “All hands, prepare to exit hyperspace,” the captain called over the PA. “Fighter squadrons, prepare for immediate launch.”