Galactic Defenders- Endurance

by Michael Mishoe

  ​Attention: Five hundred rez until target reaches liquid surface.

  ​When the Atlanta was within the docking lanes, four giant metal clamps emerged from their storage bays in the hull and grabbed onto the Atlanta, securing it in the docking lane. The ship then activated the thrusters positioned on top of the hull as it tried to stop before it reached the ocean’s surface. Fortunately, Jack had programmed the computer to make a gentler stop, rather than the sudden burst of speed it had used when it chased after the Atlanta. If he hadn’t, the Atlanta’s crew would’ve been killed as they were thrown against the sub’s ceiling from the sudden speed decrease.

  ​The alien ship stopped moving, and Jack finally managed to wrench himself from his seat in the wall, falling to his feet on the ground. Once he oriented himself, he quickly returned to the central computer console and placed his hands on the structure and analyzed the data to determine their current status. He was pleased as the ship’s sensors informed him that the alien vessel had stopped ascending a fair distance from the ocean’s surface. Acting quickly, Jack instructed the computer to quickly (but gently) return the ship to the bottom of the ocean. He then adjusted the visual display to show the Atlanta, and then he saw the sub, secure in-between the docking lane and the main hull of the alien vessel.

  ​“Captain Rickman, is the crew all right? What is the status of the Atlanta?”

  ​Jack heard something get brushed aside from the comm microphone, and then he heard Lieutenant Commander Hayley speak, “I think we’ll be fine, Jack. Captain Rickman was knocked unconscious when he fell against a computer console when the Atlanta docked. But don’t worry, Doctor McGriffen has already examined him and he will be fine and should wake up soon. From the reports we received from the rest of the ship, there were no casualties, and only minor injuries have been reported.”

  ​“That’s great news, Commander Hayley.” After checking some more information from the computer, he continued, “Commander, I am going to activate the docking post that will extend a corridor to allow the crew to come aboard. It will have to drill through the Atlanta’s hull to get into the sub, so notify the crew in deck four, section nine to be ready for that. The docking structure will be tight enough in the Atlanta that it can drill through the hull without any water leaking in, though I do recommend that section be temporarily sealed off as a safety precaution.”

  ​“Jack, are you sure about that? If the sub un-docks from the ship, we’ll still have that hole in our hull, and we don’t exactly have the materials needed to repair it. It would keep us from traveling on our own power.”

  ​“Commander, I think the Atlanta’s sailing days are over. Its propellers have been cut off, and you can’t descend into the water with your tubes stuck closed.”

  ​Hayley paused a moment as she thought, and replied, “All right, Jack. Do it.”

  ​“Right away, Commander. I am extending the boarding ramp now.” Jack watched as a circular corridor, very similar in shape to the docking lanes, emerged from the hull of the ship and then connected with the Atlanta’s hull. Steam appeared around the boarding lane’s endpoint as lasers at the end of the boarding lane drilled though the hull.

  ​ As the boarding ramp continued to drill through the hull of the Atlanta, Jack instructed the computer to begin pumping oxygen into the interior of the ship, since the alien ship had no air inside the ship, the result of being built by a robotic species that didn’t need it to survive. Fortunately, the Ribiyar had installed atmospheric systems into the ship that could produce a wide variety of breathable air, supposedly if someone from outside their species was brought aboard, and luckily, the required chemicals needed to produce oxygen where part of the materials stored for the atmospheric system to use. As the oxygen was produced and spread through the ship’s vent system, Jack directed the air to the bridge, the boarding ramp, the engineering center, and other areas the crew would be likely to use. Eventually, enough oxygen would be produced to support the entire ship, but until then, only certain sections of the vessel would be habitable by the crew. Jack also began heating the interior of the ship, as a specific temperature was not required the aliens and the ship had been exposed to an extremely cold environment for days, also to suit the needs of the Atlanta’s crew.

  ​Soon after Jack had finished directing the airflow, the computer notified him that the boarding ramp had finished drilling a path into the Atlanta. The display then split into two video feeds, one showing the Atlanta in the docking lanes, and the other showing the inside of the docking port connected to the sub.

  ​The hallway in the sub was slightly torn apart from the Atlanta’s rocky descent, and likely from the corridor drilling through the ship as well. A ceiling beam had come loose, one end touching the ground as the other end still held to the ceiling, and pieces of shattered wall plating covered the surface of the floor. The hallway was empty for a few moments, before a few of the Atlanta’s crew appeared on the screen, timidly approaching the hole in the ship and peering down into the boarding lane. Using the ship’s communications system, many nearly jumping out of their skin in surprise to the unexpected communication, Jack informed the crew that he was sending drones to lead them to the bridge, the engineering center, and other points of the ship that needed to be operated. After he assigned the Recon Drones to their tasks, Jack quickly traveled toward the docking lane to board the Atlanta, and meet the bridge crew for a meeting in the briefing room to discuss their next plan of action. Assuming, of course, that there was one.

  Five minutes later…

  ​The Atlanta’s senior staff had gathered in the briefing room, with Jack present at the end of the table. Though he no longer officially a member of the Atlanta’s crew, the others felt he should be present at the meeting, considering his involvement in freeing the ship, and his ability to directly interface with the alien technology made him invaluable as the Atlanta’s crew struggled to control the unfamiliar equipment. Also, many had served under his command for over a year, and they knew that his insight and thoughts on the matters at hand would be well advised. Captain Rickman sat at the front of the table, a small bruise on the right side his forehead from his encounter with the computer console.

  ​Commander Hayley got right to the point and asked, “What is our plan now, captain? Do we contact our superiors in the U.S. and inform them that we are still alive?”

  ​Captain Rickman hesitated, and responded, “I don’t think that is any longer possible. From the information I have reviewed from the alien’s database, it appears that our military headquarters were one of the first sites that was attacked. I doubt that there is anything left of it. But, before we plan long term, we need to focus on our own needs first. We have only roughly a day’s food left, and some of that is spoiled. Are there any islands we could go to and gather supplies?”

  ​“There are, Captain Rickman. “Jack responded. “There is an uninhabited island about sixty miles west of our location. I suggest we take some of the alien fighters to the island to gather supplies. We should try to keep our possession of the ship a secret, until the time is right. We don’t want to give up the element of surprise.”

  ​“How will we fly those ships? We don’t exactly have time to learn how to do it,” Chief Lexton asked.

  ​“I can use my computer systems and pilot the shuttles myself. I recommend we have at least two Recon Drones aboard each shuttle for security on the island, and to strengthen my connection with the fighters’ computer systems.”

  ​The captain was silent as he thought it over. After a few moments, he responded, “Alright. Jack, do what you have to do to pilot those shuttles. Chief Lexton, I want you to be the senior officer on this mission. Your engineering expertise may be required if any of the fighters suffer any mechanical failures, and it would be best if Jack didn’t have to try to keep the ships together while trying to keep them flying through the sky. Assemble a team big enough for five shuttles, and set course for that island. Be back as soon as you c
an.”

  ​“Aye, captain.” Chief Lexton responded.

  ​“The rest of you, assign a skeleton crew to stay on the Atlanta. I want the rest of the crew to be on the alien ship. We are going to be spread pretty thin, but we need to personally supervise as much of the ship’s operations as we can. Jack, program the rest of your drones to respond to our commands so we can use them to help maintain the ship.”

  ​Jack nodded. “Understood, captain. It won’t take long to make the modifications.”

  ​“Good. If there is nothing else, you are all dismissed.”

  Date: July 9, 2132.

  Location: Onboard the Ribiyar Warship Ji’Co, in orbit of Earth.

  ​Tactical Analysist Cha’Hawk was busy reviewing battle plans in his work center for a raid on a base they had recently discovered on a land mass surrounded by a body of liquid the organics called the Pacific Ocean, when his monitors showed the brief appearance of a tracking signal, before it abruptly disappeared from the reach of the Ji’Co’s sensors. Cha’Hawk accessed the monitor, and reversed the display to the time where it had detected the tracking signal. The signal once again appeared on the monitor, and he froze the information on the display and studied it closely. There was no mistaking the signal: it was a homing beacon that clearly identified it as the Ra’Ta. Cha’Hawk immediately made his way to High Order Ki’Ra’s chamber to deliver his mission report, and to personally give his knowledge of the Ra’Ta to his superior. He could not afford to give Ki’Ra any indication about his planned betrayal by delaying to reporting this development, for he did not yet have the plans in place to sever Ki’Ra from his rule.

  ​Once Cha’Hawk arrived at the entrance to Ki’Ra’s domain, Cha’Hawk inserted his data module into the port, which would send a message to Ki’Ra that he was at the door. After several minutes of waiting, a favorite tactic of the High Order’s, for it clearly made it known who was in charge, the door split open, and a guard escorted Cha’Hawk to Ki’Ra. Ki’Ra’s chambers was nearly as big as the Battle Coordination Hall and was covered in the same silver color that the High Order had demanded coat all of the ships in the fleet, both on the interior of the ship and on the exterior hull plating. The room was two levels high, though the second level was mostly a circle that loped around the ovular room. On the first floor, a glimmering stair case led to a chair that lay at the top of the structure. As Cha’Hawk moved through the room, it was hard for the soldier not to take notice of the handful of automatic gun turrets placed along the walls. Many would claim this was the most secure place on a Ribiyar battleship, for the room was located near the center of the ship, and it was also in close proximity to the security center, allowing reinforcements to be able to arrive in moments if needed. Cha’Hawk walked up the large stairway that led to the second level and waited while Ki’Ra finished talking with a squad commander that was reporting from another ship on the fleet.

  ​Ki’Ra was seated on the command chair, though many thought of it as a throne. The seat was made from rare crystals they found on a planet years ago while traveling to Earth, and they discovered that the crystals glimmered even brighter when energy flowed through them. Because Ribiyar were powered by energy, the crystals would brightly shine whenever a Ribiyar sat on the throne. Moments later, the officer was dismissed, and Cha’Hawk approached Ki’Ra, and kneeled before him, as protocol demanded, though he hated bowing before the arrogant fool who somehow managed to remain in command of the Ribiyar forces laying claim to the planet known as earth, and all the other planets in the solar system.

  ​“High Order Ki’Ra, I have news to report.” Ki’Ra did not respond for a few moments, savoring the moment of having Cha’Hawk kneeling before him.

  ​“Proceed with your report, Tactical Analysist Cha’Hawk.”

  ​Cha’Hawk rose and started his report. “High Order, the mission to destroy the organic’s vessel, the U.S.S. Ocean-Walker, has failed. The initial team was destroyed, and the reinforcements were also neutralized. The organics may have had a ship hidden below them for support, but we had not detected it during the battle. I also have been contacted by holding facility Tri’La, informing us that they have progressed to seventy-one percent completion, and are now ready to receive the organics our warriors have captured to begin the experiments that you have ordered.”

  ​“Excellent. Begin rapid shipment to Tri’La at once. I want results from the organic studies within two Qat. How long until the Nexus has been constructed?” Ki’Ra asked.

  ​“At their current rate, it will be operational within eight Qat, and completed in thirteen.”

  ​“Excellent. The sooner a permanent presence of the Tora Cyrel is established, the better. What of the discovery of the organic’s military base in the landmasses in what they call the Pacific Ocean. Are the preparations made to destroy the base, and then annihilate them?”

  ​“I have been reviewing the proposed battle plans, and they appear to be soundly prepared. Once the troops have infiltrated the base and purged the organics inhabiting the landmass, they will download whatever information the base holds, then they will place bombs powerful enough to destroy the base, the island that holds it, and all the land masses near it as well. Though I do recommend simply bombarding the island with the cannons of the warships in orbit, you of course have the final decision.” Unfortunately, Cha’Hawk silently added to himself. “The troops will be ready to strike within a Qat. I will leave it to their commanders to inform you their status.

  ​“Very well. Is that all, Tactical Analysist Cha’Hawk?”

  ​Cha’Hawk readied himself. “There is one more matter, High Order. It is possible that the Ra’Ta has been found and reactivated by the organics. It is only a matter of time before-”

  ​Ki’Ra nearly jumped off his seat. “This AGAIN!?! I told you not to be concerned about that ship. It was destroyed during the invasion, and that is it! Are you so insecure in your position that you have to make up stories for you to receive the glory?!?”

  ​“Ki’Ra, I assure you that I have not in any way inter-”

  ​“IT IS HIGH ORDER KI’RA!!!” Ki’Ra was so enraged, Cha’Hawk could almost see steam coming off him from his anger and fury. “You are not to mention the Ra’Ta again! Am I clear about this Tactical Analysist Cha’Hawk? I will personally throw you in an Oblivion Chamber if I hear of this again! Guards, get this officer out of my sight!” A dozen Ribiyar officers emerged from their hideouts, and hurried to Cha’Hawk, grabbing him and pulling him out of the room.

  ​Once they had dragged him to the lower level, Cha’Hawk managed to shake free of their hold, and he walked to the exit himself. Pausing as the door split open, Cha’Hawk turned to Ki’Ra and said, “You shall see, Ki’Ra. Your ignorance will be your downfall to us all. Do not underestimate the organics.” Cha’Hawk then left the chamber before Ki’Ra could voice any more threats against him. This incident was the last mark. If Ki’Ra had listened about the Ra’Ta, Cha’Hawk might have reconsidered his rebellion against the High Order. But this development alone was proof of Ki’Ra’s faulty leadership. It was time to take Ki’Ra down: once, and for all.

  Chapter 15

  Date: July 9, 2132.

  Location: Aboard the U.S.S. Thunderfox, on the border of the Atlantic Ocean.

  ​“The captains’ quarters are at the end of this corridor, Lieutenant Oakland,” Olo’s escort announced. Inwardly, Olo cringed at the use of his name. Though he wished people wouldn’t use his real name, he also understood that not everyone would be sensitive to his preferences. The hallway’s he had traveled through where rectangular and colored a light tan, lit with florescent bulbs installed throughout the ceiling that bathed the corridors in a bright white light.

  ​From what he had seen of the Thunderfox, the ship was more advanced than he had expected, even considering the ship’s impressive flight equipment. The Thunderfox apparently had a computer system that was supposedly five times more advanced than the standard system for the other
ships, and from its display of firepower in destroying the Ribiyar fighters, it obviously possessed enough power to match the Ocean-Walker’s considerable arsenal. But the most impressive feature of the ship was the Thunderfox’s propulsion. The ship used electromagnetic drives for propulsion, a type of engine that went into use for interstellar vessels in the early 2090’s. The engines created propulsion from microwaves that were produced through the consumption of energy, which eliminated the need to store fuel onboard a ship.

  ​Olo reached the end of the hallway, and as his escort returned to her post, Olo knocked on the door and awaited permission to enter. The door opened, and Captain Whitefield greeted him into the room. As he entered, he observed his surroundings and found it to be very cramped. The only furniture that populated the small room was a chair that was bolted to rails that were placed in front of a small table, which took up a good portion of the left side of the room, and a bed that inhabited a cubby hole in the wall of the right side of the room. The bed, which looked like a caged seat used in carnival rides, was a mattress with several blankets scattered on it, but it was contained in a wire-frame cage of some kind.

  ​“If you’re wondering about the bed,” Captain Syvon said when he noticed Olo examining it, “it’s custom built so a person sleeping on the bed isn’t thrown across the room if the ship needs to make extreme flight maneuvers during combat.”

  ​“What happens if you are not in a bed?” Olo asked.

  ​“You either need to be strapped into a seat harness, or wearing magnetic boots such as these,” Captain Syvon said, pointing at the pair of red and gray boots he wore. He went on to explain, “Those boots magnetize you to the floor of the ship, which happens to be excessively metallic for that purpose. The engineers who built this ship needed the crew to survive flying in it.”