Legions & Legacies

by Lee Watts

  "At this depth, I'm unable to read anything beyond the upper ionosphere."

  Reasoning that if they couldn't see out, then no one could see in, Balin ordered the ship to level off.

  "How long do we stay down here?" Commodore Upton asked.

  Considering it, Balin tilted his head and stroked his bald chin. So often would Balin do this that Upton began to believe the admiral didn't have to shave his chin but instead just rubbed the hair off of it.

  "We'll have to wait until-"

  The admiral was cut off by a report from the sensor operator.

  "Sorry, Sir, but I'm picking up a large object on an intercept course."

  "Object?" Upton questioned. "I thought we were too low to be seen. What is it, Hateeg or Entauri?"

  "Neither," the officer answered. The object's not coming from above, but from below."

  "Below?" Balin echoed in puzzlement. "Give me specifics. Is it a ship, debris, or something else?"

  Running a more detailed check, the sensor officer answered with uncertainty.

  "I'd say it's a… a something else. Readings show it's organic."

  "Organic?" Balin said. "You mean it's alive?"

  Double-checking the readings, the officer confirmed the report.

  "Aye, Sir. There's a lot of distortion from the gas, but I can say this much for certain, it's big, it's alive, and it's heading our way."

  "Wait a minute," Balin said. "Big? How big?"

  "Readings are fuzzy, but I'd say about it's about a quarter our size."

  "Can you give us a holo?" Upton asked.

  "It won't be clear, but I'll punch through what we're reading."

  The command platform HPT displayed the swirling haze of yellow and orange from the thick mist of the planet. Appearing on the floating image came a small, silhouetted figure that was slowly but steadily coming closer.

  Instinctively squinting in an attempt to see better, Upton commented on the oddity.

  "Looks like… like a whale with stingray-like wings."

  "Do you want me to target it before it gets too close?" asked the weapons officer

  Balin considered it for a moment then replied, "No, let's not open fire unless it does something hostile. Maybe it's just curious."

  "Sirs, I'm picking up a signal," called out the woman at the communications station.

  "A signal?" Upton asked her. "You just mean it's making some kind of sound."

  "No, Sir. I'm picking up radio transmissions, and they're coming from… it. Maybe it's intelligent?"

  Balin rubbed his hand over his face while letting out a long breath. He and everyone else on the bridge knew the implications of finding the first non-human intelligence in the universe. Balin realized such a discovery would shake the foundation of every belief system there was, including his. Though the galaxy teamed with life, the only intelligent creatures in the known universe were all human. Humanity came in a wide variety of colors and sizes, but though there were many races, there was only one species. Finding another intelligent species would be a discovery of monumental importance.

  Balin offered an explanation.

  "Maybe it's a bio-ship. I've heard rumors of such things. I've done enough deep space exploration to know there are things we've never even conceived of that are commonplace in other parts of the universe."

  "But the Entauri don't have biotechnology," Upton noted.

  Balin grimaced.

  "Who said it's Entaurian?" he pointed out.

  "Hateeg?" Upton probed in a whisper.

  "Doubt it," Balin dismissed with a shake of the head. "It doesn't make sense for them to have that kind of a ship down here. No, the more I think about it, the more I think it's merely an animal. Either way, let's not take any chances, shields up."

  "Belay that order," hastily called out the sensor operator.

  Balin knew there must be a good explanation for countermanding his instruction.

  "What is it, Lieutenant?"

  "Sir, sensors are picking up large pockets of margonalin gas, highly volatile. If a pocket of the gas impacts the shields, it would ignite it and cause an explosion. If the pocket were big enough it would cause a chain reaction in the atmosphere and destroy us."

  "What about the engines?" Upton asked. "They don't seem to be causing any problems."

  "The ship's displacing the gas as we pass through, so there's not enough of it in the ship's wake to cause any problems."

  "Sir, I'm receiving that signal again," the communications officer reported.

  "Put it through the speakers," Balin ordered. The sound that came out was an unintelligible mixture of shrieks, whistles, and whines.

  "What do you make of it?" Upton asked the admiral.

  Taking a moment to listen to the incomprehensible sounds he answered.

  "I have no idea. It's like nothing I've ever heard. Comm, record a sample and run it through the translator program."

  While the computer attempted to decipher the strange transmission, the creature drew nearer.

  "Hold course and speed. Let's not make any sudden movements," Balin said. Finally within sight, and gliding near the ship was the mammoth, slate shaded creature. It had no discernable eyes or facial features of any kind save a large mouth, which at the moment was closed. Protruding in twin rows down it's back were myriads of rubbery looking tubes.

  "Sir, translator program complete. There are no matches to any known form of communication. Not human anyway."

  "Who is it talking to?" Balin wondered aloud.

  "Them," replied the sensor operator who then switched the HPT image to show four similar shapes rapidly approaching.

  ***

  On Entauri Major, the rescue party had its own troubles. Namely, they now needed rescuing themselves. Having just witnessed their escape shuttle destroyed by a missile, the group took cover as hunks of the obliterated ship fell from the sky. When the debris stopped falling, Aulani rolled off of the queen mother, who she was shielding with her own body.

  "Are you alright?" Aulani asked Cheyenne.

  "I'll be fine," she answered as Aulani helped her to her feet. "Though I must admit, that's the first time anyone ever gave me a flying tackle."

  "Sorry, it's only-"

  "Don't worry about it. In fact, I'm grateful. Very noble of you, but…" lowering her voice she finished the thought in a whisper, "but not very ladylike."

  Aulani looked at her in exasperation.

  "I know I'm supposed to be working on that, but there wasn't time," she asserted.

  "There is always time to be a lady," Cheyenne declared, brushing the dust from her clothes.

  Chief Mediator Yilib Wasi crossed to Ortiz and spoke softly so the others wouldn't hear.

  "Not to seem insensitive about the loss of the pilot, Colonel, but how are we going to get out of here now? That ship was our only way off the planet. The Hateeg are shooting down everything."

  Noticing a Hateeg shuttle taking off after unloading more troops, Ortiz smiled with inspiration.

  "Not everything," he noted.

  ***

  Bored out their minds, Lieutenants Ian Hammond and Dakota Farabaugh sat on the rocky moon of Entauri V waiting for the Entauri reinforcement ships to pass them by.

  "How much longer ya think?" Dakota asked in his thick rural accent.

  "About five minutes less than the last time you asked," Ian answered.

  Dakota sighed, vigorously rubbing his hands over his face to keep himself awake.

  "I wish something would happen," he whispered.

  As if answering his request, his screen suddenly lit up indicating a group of ships heading his way.

  "Whoa. Ironman, are you reading this?"

  Ian checked his screens.

  "They're transports," Ian said. "I'm reading six smaller ships with them. Looks like somebody is trying to escape the planet and has some escorts."

  "Probably some rich folk buying their way to safety," Dakota huffed.

  "If you had the means to
get you or your family out of a war zone wouldn't you take it?" Ian probed.

  Before there was a chance to answer, they intercepted a call from the fleeing ships that was directed to the approaching Entauri reinforcements.

  Neither pilot spoke Entauran, but with a flip of a switch, a translated transcript of the conversation scrolled across the screen.

  "This is the transport ship New Day. Do you read us?! Do you read us?"

  "This is task force Seven Two of the Yoltin colony. We read you New Day, go ahead."

  "I've got three ships here with four-hundred children on each and Hateeg ships in pursuit! Need immediate assistance!"

  "New Day, maintain course. We're on a direct vector and should intercept you within the hour."

  "Within the hour? The Hateeg ships are too close. They'll be in firing range in minutes!"

  "We're at best speed New Day. What about your escorts?"

  "They might be able to slow them down a little, but they won't be able to stop them. There're more than a thousand kids I'm trying to get out of here! You've got to do something!"

  "Understood, New Day. We're redlining the engines. We'll get there as quick as we possibly can, task force Seven Two out."

  Ian and Dakota sat in silence, each shaken by what they had learned. Dakota was the first to speak.

  "There're kids on those ships," he said. "We've got to do somethin'."

  "Now hold on," Ian protested. "You know we can't get involved. Exposing our presence is a direct violation of our rules of engagement."

  "Rules! How can you be talking about rules? You heard what they said. There're kids on those ships. You gonna let the Hateeg kill a thousand innocent kids 'cause of some rules? I don't want that on my conscience."

  "If we interfere it will draw the Realm into the war. If that happens, the next call like that could be about a ship full of Realm kids, and you would've been the one who caused it. You want that on your conscience?"

  "We can't just sit here and do nothin'. It's not right."

  "It's not right to defy orders, and Commander Iglesias was quite clear, remain undetected."

  Frustrated, Dakota slammed his hands against his controls wrestling with the ramifications of action and inaction. From the silence on the other end of the radio, Ian knew his wingman was stewing.

  "Listen, I know you want to help," Ian told him. "I do too, but we have to know when to pick our fights. I hate what the Hateeg are doing, and if we had clearance, I'd be the first one to charge in with you, but we have to follow orders, even when they're hard."

  Ian's words rang in Dakota's mind over and over. It was this plea for restraint that persuaded him to act. His country voice came over the radio softly.

  "Too many people have died because of those who use the excuse, I was only following orders. Well, not me."

  Ian heard some clicks and beeps coming from Dakota's cockpit.

  "Fireball, what are you doing?" Ian asked with concern.

  "Picking a fight."

  CHAPTER 46

  "Deliver me out of the mire, and let me not sink: let me be delivered from them that hate me, and out of the deep waters." – Psalm 69:14

  With one whale-like creature floating at the side of the ship and more approaching, Admiral Balin was concerned.

  "They're emitting the same radio signals as the first one," reported the sensor operator.

  "Those sounds must be like whale song," Commodore Upton deduced, "but I don't know why it's calling others to us."

  "I don't like this," the admiral grumbled. "We're outnumbered, and in a minute, we'll be surrounded."

  Balin didn't like the idea of firing on the animals so justified holding fire since the creatures didn't seem to pose a danger to the ship.

  Gracefully, more of the large, eyeless, gray-hued creatures joined the first one in gliding along with the Indomitable through the yellow mist of the planet.

  "Sir, we have a problem," came a report. "I'm reading a massive power drain."

  "Power drain? How much?" Balin asked.

  "When we first entered the atmosphere, we experienced a minor drop due to the added energy required for atmospheric flight. Then when the… the thing showed up there was another drop. I'm not sure if the thing is causing it, but the drain is increasing. We're down nine percent now, and it's getting worse."

  "Are the creatures emitting some kind of an energy-draining beam," the first officer asked.

  The engineer examined the readings before answering.

  "I'm not detecting any beams; it's more like an energy-draining field. Power level continuing to decline."

  Emphasizing the point, lights around the ship dimmed but quickly returned to full intensity as the secondary power generators came online. From the sensor station came another disturbing report.

  "Sir, I'm reading more of those things on the way."

  With the ship in now in jeopardy, Balin decided scientific discovery could wait.

  "Alright that settles it, these things have to go," he declared. "Weapons, lock on to the nearest creature."

  "Admiral, I'm detecting large pockets of margonalin gas in each of those creatures," reported the sensor operator. "If we fire it'll create a huge explosion. Not to mention what the other things might do when we hurt one of their own."

  The additional creatures reached the ship, adding to the power loss. Lights flickered momentarily, and the ship jerked causing everyone onboard to feel a prolonged, sudden drop in altitude.

  "Report," Balin ordered.

  "Power drain's increasing," came the answer. "Were down thirty percent. Each time some of those things so up the drain spikes. Inertial dampers went offline for a few seconds; that's why we felt the drop. We've leveled out now."

  "How far did we sink?" warily asked the first officer.

  "More than five-hundred meters, Sir."

  Building to the stress, the sensor operator added unsettling information.

  "External pressure increasing, and I'm picking up six more of those things on the way."

  The admiral had had enough.

  "That's it. If we can't shoot them, let's outrun them. Helm, increase velocity, and take us back up to our original altitude."

  "Aye, Sir."

  Working the controls, the helmsman attempted to raise the ship, but when he activated the engines, there was quick and far more forceful falling than the first time. Lights around the ship went entirely off for two full seconds before returning.

  "What was that?!" Upton demanded.

  "When I tried to increase engine output the power levels plummeted, and so did we. That took us down another eight-hundred meters. We're still losing altitude - about a meter a second."

  Adding to the problems was a call from the engineering section reporting that power levels were continuing to decrease.

  "External pressure reaching critical," reported the increasingly concerned sensor operator.

  Running his hand over his beard, Balin puzzled over his options. He couldn't shoot the creatures, every time they tried to increase power to gain altitude the power drain increased. He found it ironic now facing the same problem ship commanders of ancient times did - how to keep his ship from sinking.

  ***

  Colonel Ortiz walked to the Realm group assembled on the roof.

  "Okay people listen up; here's what we're going to do. Sergeant Sanders, you and your squad will remain here and safeguard the queen mother and Councilors. My squad will 'borrow' one of those troop transports from the Hateeg then fly it over here. It's not safe to stay exposed up here on the roof. Everybody back inside, but be ready to run out and board the ship the moment we land. My squad, let's move out."

  Six Marines followed his rapid descent down the stairs and into the streets of the war-torn city. Darting from one spot of cover to another, Ortiz and his men made their way to where the Hateeg transports were landing.

  "There," he decided while pointing. "We'll take that ship."

  Worried about what he saw,
one of the Marines pointed out, "Sir, the area is crawling with Hateeg soldiers. How are we going to get there without them seeing us coming?"

  Considered the problem, the Colonel came up with an innovative solution.

  "That's easy," he answered. "We're not."

  ***

  The rounded canopy of Dakota's Dagger class starfighter slowly slid back, exposing the cockpit to open space.

  "Wait a minute. What are you doing?" Ian protested.

  Fully enclosed in a pressurized combat suit, Dakota carefully climbed out of his ship and hopped down without using the ladder. Low gravity levels made the two-meter jump quite easy.

  "I'm going to help those kids buy some time," Dakota answered. "And I'll keep out of sight while doing it."

  Dubious of Dakota's chances of success, Ian asked, "And how exactly are you going to do that?"

  "I'm downloading my mark three missiles. I'll program them for a remote relay. Then I'll move my ship into one of those mining caverns. When the Hateeg pass by, I'll launch the missiles. Even if they look where the missiles came from, I won't be there. You gonna sit around all day watch'n me work, or are you gonna help?"

  Ian shook his head and sighed with trepidation of the plan. Climbing out of his Arrowhead class fighter, he lent a hand. The low gravity worked to the pilots' advantage. Under normal conditions, even one mark three missile would weigh far too much for only two people to carry. With the fleeing Entauran transports and pursuing Hateeg ships closing fast, Ian and Dakota rushed to position the missiles then hurried back to their fighters. Using as little power as possible, they guided the starfighters to concealment inside two of the moon's many caverns.

  Watching his targeting screen, Dakota decided to go for the lead four Hateeg fighters. While that left a pursuing cruiser unscathed, Dakota thought the missiles alone weren't enough to cripple the cruiser anyway. At least by taking out the lead four ships, he could dwindle the enemy numbers and hope to make them pause to wonder if there were any more incoming missiles.

  His pulse quickened as the ships drew nearer. The three Entauri transports passed the moon, and two minutes later the Hateeg ships drew within range. Dakota knew if he locked on too soon, it would give away his plan. Waiting until the last possible moment, he, at last, activated the missiles. With great speed they leaped from the surface, sprinting toward the Hateeg starfighters.