by E. R. Torre
“Bill, we’re too close to the Displacer,” he said. “Leave the engines alone.”
“You want me to give up?”
“At this point I’d rather have functional power when we enter, and especially when we emerge, from wherever we’re going.”
“Understood, sir.”
Inquisitor Raven shut the communicator off.
“Do you know our destination?”
“I’ll know as soon as the Displacer’s fully on-line,” Lieutenant Sanders said.
They waited several seconds and, finally, she had the information. Lieutenant Sanders fell back in her chair and a look of disbelief filled her face.
“Sir… our destination is Erebus.”
53
The alien vessels emerged into the uninhabited system.
Behind them, an ancient Displacer shut down.
The Prototype continued examining the latest information regarding his bases and fighters. While Saint Vulcan’s attacks destroyed or severely damaged more than seemed possible, there were hints of good news to be found among the bad. There were clearly fewer and fewer of Saint Vulcan’s vessels engaged in each subsequent attack and her losses, it appeared, were mounting.
The very last attack in Demonos had a fraction of Vulcan’s ships present compared to the earlier battles. Of the small forces there, only one of Saint Vulcan’s vessels reached Helios.
Was it possible Vulcan’s forces were spent? Had she used up everything she had before reaching Helios?
If so, and more bothersome: Had the Prototype fallen for a colossal bluff to get him out of that system?
This last thought angered the creature.
He ordered his ships forward.
They moved through empty space before slowing and stopping.
“Show yourself,” the Prototype ordered.
Before his ships appeared an oblong shaped planetoid. It was a massive warship, twice larger than the largest super-juggernauts created by either Phaecian or Epsillon Empires.
In the distance, the Displacer they emerged from came to life and waves of fighter craft, the remains of the Prototype’s armada, entered the system. There were many, many hundreds of ships of all sizes. Though his forces were a fraction of what they were a week before, they were still enough to cause considerable damage to both Empires. And if the Prototype was correct about Saint Vulcan’s remaining forces, they were enough to take her on as well.
A holographic star map appeared before the Prototype.
Superimposed upon it were a series of graphics displaying Vulcan’s attacks. The Prototype arranged the attacks in order and ran the events in time from most recent at Helios to the earliest.
Pomos.
Coincidentally enough, the Chameleon unit which confronted the Prototype in his garden came from Pomos as well. It was the planet Vulcan adopted as her home world and the place she should have died in years before.
Was the attack, and use of the Chameleon unit from that system, some kind of statement on Saint Vulcan’s part?
“Most curious,” the Prototype said.
He ordered a drone forward and to the Displacer.
It was to fly to Pomos and investigate Saint Vulcan’s old world.
The drone emerged from the Type 5 Displacer near Pomos and slowed to a stop.
It anticipated an attack but none came.
The ship took data from its surroundings and quickly determined there was no other vessels within range.
It then moved toward the planet.
When it neared, it found the Space Platform, the Space Elevator, and the land base which, for over a hundred years searched for any traces of Saint Vulcan’s body, destroyed.
This was not unexpected.
The drone closed in on the planet and, soon enough, detected a faint signal coming from very low orbit.
The drone accelerated and closed in on the signal’s source. It soon found the source.
It was another drone, one which sported considerable damage. Her orbit around Pomos was precarious and in another day or two it would crash to the planet’s surface.
The Prototype’s newly arrived drone closed in on the damaged craft and, as she did, half her body became liquid. Metal tentacles spread out and reached across the void between the vessels. They attached themselves to the damaged ship’s body and spread, enveloping the craft while drawing her in.
What remained of the damaged craft also liquefied and allowed itself to be absorbed. The two crafts became one and they moved away from Pomos and back to the Displacer.
As they traveled, information was exchanged and analyzed.
The information duplicated most of what the Prototype knew about Saint Vulcan’s forces.
There was, however, one very important new bit of information: The destination of Saint Vulcans’ forces following their attack on Pomos.
The destination was a desolate solar system within the Epsillon Empire, a dumping ground of toxic material. A place where the desperately poor sifted through the Empire’s waste for anything they could use to sell or reclaim.
A place with no strategic value and therefore the perfect place for Saint Vulcan to hide her ships.
The Fields.
Aboard his massive planetoid warship many lights years away, the Prototype received this information.
“The Fields,” he said.
He now knew where to attack.
54
The Displacer sat in space, its spherical ring darkened and covered in dust.
Few lights shined within her, suggesting minimal functionality. Her engine room was empty, her personnel quarters deserted.
Lying far, far below it was a small, metallic object. From this distance, it looked like nothing more than a rusted metal ball slowly spinning in place.
It was a space station. At one time it was the most important space station in the entire Epsillon Empire. Not all that far in the distance and some two hundred years before the Epsillon and Phaecian forces met and engaged in their first, and only, Galactic War. The mysterious explosion that ripped through the solar system abruptly ended that war.
The explosion’s shockwave almost destroyed the Titus Space Station and the Erebus Displacer. Their surviving personnel were the first to report of the tragedy.
The Erebus System was instantly rendered a toxic wasteland filled with asteroid fields that were once planets. Other than historical curiosity, the Empires were no longer interested in this system.
Within the dark bridge of the Erebus Displacer, more computers came to life. Automated programs engaged and power built up.
An automated signal was then sent to the Titus Space Station.
Deep inside the Titus Space Station the transmission was received by a trio of people inside The Jackal Bar. The elder of the three sat alone and away from the other two and at the bar’s counter. The two others, a man and woman, sat at a table by a window.
Lights flickered from outside and they watched as the Erebus Displacer’s interdimensional corridor came to life.
“They will arrive soon,” the woman said. “Which of the ships is it?”
“The Cygnusa,” the man seated at the table with her said.
“The Cygnusa?” the woman repeated. “This could be tricky.”
“It could, but our subject is aboard the ship.”
“Has he been identified?”
“Not yet.”
The elderly man by the bar heard their conversation but their words meant little to him.
Within the bridge of the Cygnusa, Inquisitor Raven examined the monitors.
A timer to his right noted the Cygnusa’s flight time through the interdimensional corridor just passed the four minute and twenty second mark.
A typical, safe flight through such corridors took no more than a minute and a half. Any time spent beyond that risked a vessel being exposed to increasingly massive doses of radiation or getting lost in a fold in space and never being seen again.
“Sir, we have an exit sign
al,” Lieutenant Sanders said.
“Thank the Gods,” Inquisitor Raven said. “Radiation levels?”
“Elevated but tolerable,” Lieutenant Sanders said. “Which shouldn’t be possible.”
“Considering what we’ve witnessed so far, nothing should surprise us anymore,” Inquisitor Raven said.
Inquisitor Raven activated the ship’s intercom.
“This is Inquisitor Raven,” he said. “We are nearing the end of our trip and enter Epsillon territory shortly. We do so without permission or advanced notice. Our arrival will no doubt cause concern. Any personnel stationed in this part of Erebus must know a Phaecian ship is about to enter their territory and it is certain they will defend themselves. I’m hoping to avoid conflict but we will nonetheless ready all offensive weaponry. Do not –I repeat, do not– open fire on any target, no matter how hostile they may seem, unless I issue the order.”
Inquisitor Raven shut the intercom down and addressed Lieutenant Sanders.
“Send out a transmission, all channels, to anyone listening. Explain our situation. Tell them our arrival in Erebus was beyond our control. Hopefully, they’ll listen before firing.”
55
The end of the interdimensional corridor appeared as a black dot in the center of the Cygnusa’s main view-screen. With each second it grew larger and bright lights filled the darkness. One in particular was larger than the rest.
“What is that?” Inquisitor Raven asked.
“The Titus Space Station,” Lieutenant Sanders said. “It’s the only other structure present in this sector of space.”
“Is she armed?”
“According to the records, only minimally.”
“Time to exit?”
“Thirty six seconds.”
Inquisitor Raven activated his communicator.
“How are the ship’s engines, Chief Muses?”
“They’re nearing peak efficiency.”
“Incredible,” Inquisitor Raven said. “And our unwelcome passenger?”
“Firmly in control.”
“Understood,” Inquisitor Raven said. He addressed his bridge crew and said: “All right folks, here we go.”
The Cygnusa exited the Displacer’s energized maw and entered Erebus space.
She slowed until coming to a full stop.
Within the bridge Inquisitor Raven was on his feet. He stared hard at the view-screen and at his many tactical monitors, looking for any signs of incoming torpedoes or fusion blasts.
There were none.
“I’m detecting six alien crafts parked by the Titus Space Station,” Lieutenant Sanders said.
“Type?”
“They’re the same model as the one we tried to rescue in Helios. They are powered down.”
“Thank the Gods,” Inquisitor Raven said. “Do we have a better idea of the local defensive systems?”
“Erebus Displacer is protected by Six Forty Sixes,” she said, referring to the orbital cannons around the station and displacer. “They’ll sting, but the cannons are cold and torpedo launchers are sealed.”
Inquisitor Raven activated the ship’s intercom.
“All personnel, stand down. Repeat: Stand down.”
“Inquisitor Raven!” Chief Muses said over the communicator.
“Yes?”
“Sir, the fragment has released control of the engines!”
“Understood,” Inquisitor Raven said.
He shut his communicator off and faced Lieutenant Sanders.
“Any transmissions from either the Displacer or the Titus Space Station?”
“Nothing yet, sir.”
“Are there any other ships in the area? Other than the alien vessels?”
Lieutenant Sanders checked her computer. She nodded.
“There’s a small cruiser parked at Titus. She’s Epsillon military.”
“Keep sending out our message,” Inquisitor Raven said. “There may be ships in hiding who think the worst of us.”
Inquisitor Raven returned to his chair.
“Tell me about the Titus Space Station.”
“She’s a converted supply satellite.”
“Converted to what?”
“A tourist center,” Lieutenant Sanders said. “Shortly after the war Erebus became a tourist site and the Titus Space Station was the first stop for guided tours.”
“Leave it to the Epsillons to convert a bloody battlefield into a tourist center,” Inquisitor Raven muttered.
Several silent minutes passed as the Cygnusa floated in place.
“If they were going to attack, they would have done so already,” Inquisitor Raven said. “Power down all weapons.”
“Yes sir,” Weapons OP Hamilton said.
Inquisitor Raven pressed the communicator button.
“All personnel in and around the Erebus Displacer and the Titus Space Station, this is Inquisitor Raven, commander of the Cygnusa. We have sent repeated broadcasts explaining how we got here. We have no desire to provoke an international incident and have ordered all our weapons powered down. Please verify.”
There was no immediate answer, but a few lights inside the Titus Space Station came on. One very bright light over one of the exterior docks flashed.
“An invitation?” Lieutenant Sanders said.
“Looks that way,” Inquisitor Raven said.
“Should we take the offer?”
Inquisitor Raven thought about that.
“Not just yet,” he said.
Inquisitor Raven exited the elevator and stepped into the cargo bay.
He approached the metal fragment. The security guards surrounding it saluted him while Chief Muses approached.
“Now that we’re out of the Displacer’s interdimensional corridor, we can send engineers outside to see just how big she is,” Chief Muses said. “We could also cut the hull from the outside. Might be easier to dislodge it.”
“This thing fixed our engines and transported us over seventy thousand light years in a single Displacer jump,” Inquisitor Raven said. “If she wanted to hurt us, she would have done so already.”
“That could change,” Chief Muses said. “Even so, this thing kidnapped us and brought us here against our will.”
“True,” Inquisitor Raven said. “But now that we’re here, I’m inclined to see what it wants.”
“You talk as if this piece of metal has some kind of intelligence.”
“For all we know, it may well have that, Carlos,” Inquisitor Raven said.
He walked to the tinsel glass partition that separated the fragment from the rest of the ship.
“I don’t know if you can hear me, but if you can, I’m ordering the ship to dock at the Titus Space Station. I assume it is what you want.”
He turned away from the fragment.
“You just talked to a piece of metal,” Chief Muses said and smiled.
“Don’t tell me you’ve never talked to your engines,” Inquisitor Raven said.
“I have, but that’s why they love me,” Chief Muses said.
Inquisitor Raven activated his communicator.
“Lieutenant Sanders, plot a course to Titus,” he said. “Looks like I’ll be taking in the sights.”
56
With a loud click, the Cygnusa docked with the Titus Space Station. Outside the battleship’s main Decompression Chamber stood a Security Team. Inquisitor Raven joined them.
“We’re stepping onto Epsillon Empire ground and will show proper respect,” he said. “Always remember where we are and do not act unless provoked or ordered by me.”
“Yes sir!” the Security Team members replied.
Inquisitor Raven spoke into his communicator.
“Lieutenant Sanders, we’re about to enter the Titus Station,” he said. “While we’re gone, you’re in charge.”
“Yes sir.”
“All right, let’s move.”
Lights over the door to the chamber flashed red. A slight tremble was felt and the red lights turned
green.
“Weapons,” Sergeant Robbins, the head of the Security Team said.
Her soldiers drew and checked their weapons while a hiss was heard. Life support machinery within the Cygnusa’s Decompression Chamber matched the atmosphere of the corridor beyond. The heavy metal door slid aside, revealing that corridor and, at its end, another heavy metal door which led directly into Titus.
The Security Team moved forward.
Inquisitor Raven stepped into the corridor while remaining close behind Sergeant Robbins. The Security team checked the metal door at the end of the corridor.
“Standard lock, sir,” he said. “Atmosphere beyond verified. I have access to the camera feeds in the room.”
A hologram appeared over his left sleeve. It showed the room beyond. It was empty.
“Any weapons or security devices?”
“None detected,” the soldier said. “Ready to open whenever you want me to.”
“Do so,” Inquisitor Raven said.
The heavy metal door leading into the Space Station slid open. The Security Team, already tense, were coiled tight.
“Send in the drones,” Inquisitor Raven said.
Three members of the Security Team stepped forward and produced six small fortified drones. They were activated and moved past the Decompression chamber and into the station itself.
A minute passed as information was gathered.
“We have three people in what appears to be a bar,” Sergeant Robbins finally said.
“Can you identify them?”
“One of them,” Sergeant Robbins said. She produced a handheld monitor and pointed at the elderly man sitting at the bar. “That’s General Anton Jurgens.”
“It certainly is,” Inquisitor Raven said. “I’m guessing the cruiser docked to the station is his. What are they doing?”
“Not much. The unidentified two by the table are just sitting there while General Jurgens… he’s drinking. Rather heavily from what I see.”
On the monitor, General Jurgens looked up and directly at the drone. He said:
“Welcome to Titus. Please, come. Let’s talk.”
