Legions & Legacies

by Lee Watts

  "ONE?" Ortiz burst out in disbelief. He wasn't alone in his alarm, but the other section commanders protested in more subtle voices.

  Quieting the group, Balin explained.

  "That's right people, one. I'd prefer to send the Dauntless, but it's nowhere near ready, so we're taking the Indomitable. The dock chief says it can have his teams off and scaffolding removed within four hours. With the Indomitable’s new command crew still a week out, we're commandeering it for this mission."

  Balin's voice was full of power and determination. Bolstering his officers, the admiral chose his words carefully while speaking with confident resolve.

  "We have to extract the King and Councilors, but if multiple ships go in it looks like a strike force. A single ship can conduct a surgical mission with less chance of detection."

  Commander Miranda Iglesias was one of those at the table.

  "Less chance of detection?" she asked in a respectful tone, "but the Indomitable is huge. We'll be pretty easy to detect."

  "True," Balin said with a nod. "So, we'll have to come up with ways to overcome that factor, and we have to use finesse people. If we go in guns-a-blazing, it will be seen as an act of war. Every minute we delay keeps the king and others in jeopardy, so time is of the essence."

  "Wait a minute," one of the officers protested, "we're supposed to enter a war zone, but not enter the war?"

  "That's right," Balin answered.

  Another officer interjected a concern.

  "I thought the Hateeg were still at war with the Arthrbrill Clan worlds, did the Hateeg withdraw or did the Arthbrill surrender?"

  "Actually neither," answered Commodore Upton. "Intelligence reports that Confederate forces in the clan worlds are still there and pressing their assault. These are some additional forces."

  There was a silent whistle from many in the room. Effectively taking on two enemies at once was a show of Hateeg strength to everyone else in the galaxy. Balin offered something else to consider.

  "The Hateeg sat around for hundreds of years as a third-rate power not doing too much of anything," he said. "Now, all of a sudden, they've got ships and resources to sustain a dozen major theater engagements back to back and to top it off, they're winning. Cloaking technology or no, I say they must be getting help."

  "Yes, but from whom?" Miranda asked. No one could offer a likely suggestion.

  Breaking the silence, Colonel Ortiz asked if anyone had responded to the Entaurans' plea for help?

  "The Entauri stand alone," Balin lowly answered.

  "What about the Assembly?" someone asked. "They have representatives there. Surely they'll do something."

  "I've been assured the matter will be thoroughly discussed in an emergency committee meeting," Balin replied in thinly veiled disgust of the AOW. "However, we all know the Assembly takes forever to act on anything, and when they do decide to do on something, it usually doesn't amount to a whole lot."

  Everyone knew all too well the endless politicking and debating of the Assembly, but also understood why individual nations were reluctant to enter the conflict. Not knowing the Hateeg's full strength, entering a war with them was a risk that governments were unwilling to take. Many nations had large sections of their population who followed the Hateega religion. Those nations feared if the Confederacy showed up to "liberate" those people, they might have a two-front war, one from without and the other from the Hateeg within their own citizenship. With an entirely new strike force deployed against the Entauri, the surrounding nations wondered how many more fleets the Confederacy still held in reserve.

  "Besides," Balin added. The Entauri Cluster was originally settled by Enty colonists. That makes them as cousins to the Realm. If anyone should go in it's us."

  As the crew of the shipyard raced in removing the equipment used to repair the battlecarrier Indomitable, the admiral and his officers laid plans on how to enter a battle but stay out of a war. With planning complete, Balin dismissed everyone and proceeded to the bridge. Commodore Upton went to the command station while the admiral went about the bridge issuing the orders.

  "Yellow alert. Comm, cut all transmissions. We're in communications blackout until further notice."

  Quickly, the communications officer complied and replied.

  "Navigation," Balin continued, "lay in a course for Entauri Major, velocity-best speed."

  "Aye, Sir," the navigator said as he began typing data into the computer. Balin made his way up the steps to the command platform. That vantage point allowed the ship's master and first officer a view of the entire bridge. The ever-ridged Commodore Upton snapped to attention as Balin reached the platform. From Upton's first day as executive officer, Balin told him since they would be working so closely the courtesy of always standing when he approached wasn't necessary. However, ever by the book, Upton continued the gesture of respect. Balin nodded in appreciation then sat while his executive officer did the same.

  "Course plotted, Admiral, standing by," the navigator reported.

  "Execute," Balin ordered.

  Flaring to life, the quartet of engines at the back of the ship propelled it at many times the factor of lightspeed. Even pushing the limits of Realm propulsion technology, it would still take hours to reach their destination. Balin switched on the ship's intercom.

  "All hands, this is the bridge. We are on course for the Entauri Major system currently under attack by Hateeg forces. We are not, I repeat, are not engaging in a combat role. Our mission is evacuation of the King and Councilors on the planet. Unit commanders will provide further details during unit mission briefings. That is all, bridge out."

  Two hours, and six cups of coffee later, the twenty-second fighter squadron was assembled in the unit's briefing room. Before entering, Commander Iglesias tugged on her uniform to straighten it then confidently strode in, making her way to the far end of the room. The group was called to attention for her. Reaching the front, she told everyone to be seated then began her well prepared, thoroughly rehearsed briefing. She'd painstakingly considered all the factors. A detail-oriented woman, she felt confident she had planned for all the potential problems of their situation and meticulously mapped out contingencies. However, she had overlooked two difficulties, and these oversights would prove the threads that unraveled her hopes for a smooth briefing. The difficulties were named Ian and Dakota.

  CHAPTER 41

  "He delivered and rescueth, and he worketh signs and wonders in heaven and in earth…" – Daniel 6:27

  Part of the "enter the fight stay out of the war" rescue plan devised by the command staff was for two of the Indomitable's starfighters to launch and act as recons. Their radar signatures were far less than that of the massive battlecarrier, so they stood a much better chance of remaining undetected while serving as the eyes and ears of the ship. Commander Iglesias lobbied fervently for her squadron to take up that challenge and had won.

  After briefing her squadron on the Entauri plan, emphasizing the importance of remaining undetected, she asked for volunteers. Pilot hands shot up all over the room. She smiled with pride, which lasted only a second before things started to go wrong.

  With an easily recognizable accent from the Realm's backwater colony world of Groviths came a voice.

  "I think I'd like to take on that mission, Ma'am."

  Everyone turned to see who it was. Noticing the speaker was Lieutenant Dakota Farabaugh, almost all the hands sunk back down. Miranda was stunned.

  Why would the pilots give up so easily? she wondered. It wasn't the aggressive nature indicative of starfighter pilots. Her mind raced with puzzlement. What's going on? she thought suspiciously.

  Ian kicked himself for not speaking up first.

  In a far more refined accent, Ian added his own voice.

  "He'll need a wingman. I'll look after him."

  Puzzled and distrustful of her pilots' actions, the confused commander noticed a quick exchange of glances between the two men. Dakota was clearly annoyed by Ian's con
descending remark of needing to be "looked after." It was a subtle declaration of superior skill, which had not gone unnoticed. Ian's attitude was haughty. Miranda knew Ian thought he was a better pilot than everyone else in the squadron. What infuriated her was, after reviewing his records teaming with awards, medals, and achievements, she figured he was probably right.

  Letting out a small sigh, she promised herself that as soon as the mission was over to get to the bottom of the mystery of the pilots changing their minds about volunteering.

  "Alright, Gentlemen, looks like the job is yours." The two lieutenants smiled victoriously. Dakota looked at the other pilots and gave an understated nod, rousing Miranda's suspicions even more.

  "Report to the hangar deck an hour before launch for pre-flight checks," she said with annoyance. "Dismissed."

  As Miranda left, she decided it was time to play detective and find out how Dakota had acquired such sway over the other pilots in such a short time.

  A few hours later the ship's helmsman made an announcement.

  "Approaching the Entauri Major system. ETA one minute."

  From the command platform, Admiral Balin ordered the ship to slow to sublight speed.

  "Sensors," Balin called, "pipe up a projection of the system to my HPT."

  "Aye, Sir."

  In a few seconds, the holographic projection table on the command platform displayed an image of the worlds and moons of the Entauri solar system. Balin positioned his ship behind the most distant planet from the sun, using it as cover while running scans gathering data.

  "There's too much interference," Commodore Upton complained while studying the readouts of the HPT. "We can't get clear readings from this position."

  Balin grimaced. He didn't want to bring the ship closer but knew he must. Moving the ship cautiously, he was keenly aware of the consequences of detection. Staying in eclipse of the system's many moons and planets to hide the battlecarrier, Balin leap-frogged the Indomitable closer to the second planet, Entauri Major. Behind the gas giant Entauri VI, Balin halted the advance. Each leap brought them closer to the goal but also heightened the chance of detection.

  "This is as close as we get," Balin announced while peering at the floating holographic projection. Looking to the first officer, he said, "Call down to the flight deck, and give them the go-ahead."

  Upton nodded and keyed the controls.

  "Flight control this is the bridge, we are in position. Launch when ready."

  In the docking bay, Lieutenants Farabaugh and Hammond sat in their respective fighters.

  "Roger that bridge," Dakota called back brightly with almost boyish eagerness.

  Ian, in a notably less enthusiastic tone, called in that he was also ready. Powering up the engines of his F/A-40 Dagger class starfighter, Dakota reveled in the raw strength surging through craft.

  "Whoo-ee! This baby wants to fly. Listen to those engines roar," Ian heard Dakota say through the helmet speaker.

  "Just stick to the mission," Ian said over the transmitter. "We don't have time for joy riding."

  "I figured you'd be all about hotshot'n, Ironman. You can't blame me for being excited; it's not everyone who gets to fly next to such a pretty ship as this."

  Ian rolled his eyes and shook his head in annoyance while he charged up his markedly less powerful Arrowhead class ship. With a loud charging "YEE-HAW" Dakota activated his thrusters, hurtling the Dagger class ship into space. Ian launched a moment later, but without a rejoicing yell.

  Though he had spent years in starfighters, Dakota hadn't lost his appreciation for the beauty of deep space.

  "Ya gotta love the big black don't cha?"

  For once, Ian agreed. Admiring the distant stars and the shades of yellow and orange from the nearby gas giant, he gave an earnest reply.

  "It never gets old," he concurred.

  Since no one could see, Ian cast an envious glance at the sleek fighter beside him, lamenting how he should have been the one flying it. Returning his thoughts to the moment, he called Dakota.

  "Let's go around the left side of the planet."

  Ian then moved his controls, and his ship responded by smoothly banking around the sphere. Dakota, with far less gracefulness, pushed his throttle hard and barrel-rolled three times to the vector his wingman indicated. Reaching the edge of the world, and not wanting to attract attention from any watching Hateeg ships, each pilot cut their engines.

  Though Entauri Major was far beyond visual range, the ship's sensors were able to search nearby space for possible Hateeg sentry ships. Finding none, Ian sent a tight beam signal back to the Indomitable.

  In the expansive hangar, Colonel Ortiz and a dozen of his best troops waited in an assault shuttle. Over the shuttle's speakers came a voice, "Shuttle Four, recons report all clear. It's a go. Launch when ready."

  When the large space doors reopened, the bay's atmosphere was held in place solely by the magnetic field generated by the ship's navigation shields. Colonel Ortiz sat next to the shuttle's pilot; a feisty, redheaded sergeant named Tia VanAllen.

  "Acknowledged OPS," she called back, "initiating launch sequence."

  Tia's fingers lightly tapped over the controls, bringing the shuttle's thrusters to life. Lifting from the deck, the craft jetted forward, through the magnetic field, and into space. Using maneuvering thrusters, Tia positioned the shuttle to the planned vector to begin its voyage to the planet.

  "Here we go," she said beginning her countdown, "Three, two, one."

  On zero, the shuttle's main engine flared to maximum power, maintaining the full burn for half a minute before shutting off. Since a powered vessel would show up on a sensor sweep, the plan was for the shuttle to create a single-powerful thrust, riding the wave of inertia all the way to the planet. Reaching the upper atmosphere, Tia skillfully piloted the craft to the designated insertion point.

  As anticipated, the capital city was under massive attack. Pillars of smoke rose from dozens of buildings while fighters from both sides buzzed over skyscrapers like swarms of angry insects. Flashes from explosions rivaled the sun for brightness, and shockwaves buffeted the tiny shuttle.

  "Set 'er down over there, Sergeant!"

  The colonel pointed to a grassy park area next to the burning remains of what was once a multi-story building. Ortiz looked over his shoulder to those in the main compartment.

  "Prepare to disembark," he shouted over the roaring engine and thundering explosions.

  The Marines clicked off their seat restraints, fastened on their helmets, and switched their weapons off of safety. It wasn't the softest landing Tia ever made, but with time critical, she set the ship down fast, opening the rear ramp even before reaching the ground. The Marines rushed out, immediately running for cover in the burnt-out shell of a nearby building.

  Ortiz told VanAllen to stay as long as she could, but if necessary, to take the ship out and wait for his signal. Running down the ramp, he joined the rescue team. He motioned the group forward, and they advanced toward the building where the Realm delegation was supposed to be. Following the plan, the team split into two groups - one squad making its way to the objective and the other securing the exit route.

  Stealthily, Colonel Ortiz led his group of Marines inside the target building. Searching the seemingly abandoned structure, they eventually found the Realm delegation.

  "Realm Marines?" Cheyenne marveled in astonished relief. "How did you get here so quickly?!"

  Ortiz smiled.

  "Majesty, as soon as we got your message, we started making a rescue plan right away."

  "Off-world communications were jammed before the first wave of attacks," Cheyenne informed them then continued slowly with growing concern. "I sent no message."

  A sinking feeling formed in the pit of the colonel's stomach. He looked at the other Marines who each now realized they were in far more danger than they first thought.

  "But if you didn't send the message to come rescue you…who did?"

  CHAPTE
R 42

  "For yourselves know perfectly that the day of the LORD so cometh as a thief in the night." – I Thessalonians 5:2

  (1,000 years ago)

  Racing through the night air of Dalban desert, Ramillie assault ships approached the temple housing the Elderites and Guardians. The Vault Keeper, a mortal named Gareth, remained in his damaged ship, desperately trying to repair his inoperable weapons systems. So far his efforts had only resulted in blowing out the launch initiator, effectively grounding the vessel. He could fix it, but it would take time. Working frantically, a proximity alert sounded, letting him know it was too late.

  From inside the one-room temple, Merrick watched as the Ramillie ships suddenly dropped toward the dunes. The erratic movement took him by surprise and was compounded when the ships began smashing into the sand. Tumbling forward, the Ramillie ships rolled end over end, kicking up immense waves of sand. Because of the ordinance they carried, most of the crashing starfighters exploded on impact, but the troop shuttles merely crumbled.

  Further back, Pipaluk heard the crashing so rushed to the doorway.

  "What's happening?" she asked.

  "I don't know," Merrick answered. "Perhaps the Elder has knocked them down."

  "No," came a voice behind them.

  Turning, they saw it was Seer Rew standing with eyes closed.

  "It is the abduction," he said with a smile as he opened his eyes. "The imminent abduction. It's happened. They're gone. They're all... gone."

  Confused but hopeful, Pipaluk looked to Shania then back to the seer.

  "All of them?" she asked.

  "All of them," Rew answered calmly. "The Ramillie… are no more."

  "But- but where did they go?"

  Shania stepped forward to answer.

  "We don't know, Little One. All the prophecy says is that they will be locked for an age in a prison that none can pass from but only to."