by G J Ogden
Sterling smiled then felt the universe collapse into nothing, so that only his disembodied thoughts remained. His mind dwelled on what had just happened. Sterling had called Falchion’s bluff, as he knew he would. However, his primary sensation wasn’t relief that his gamble had worked, but anger that it had done. Anders should have blown the Invictus to atoms. Sterling had disobeyed orders and made a run for the Void. For all Anders knew, Sterling and his crew could have been turned. By taking no action, the officer may have allowed an advanced warship and battle-hardened crew to join the ranks of the enemy invasion armada. It was an act of cowardice, Sterling thought, as he waited for the surge to complete, and it was all because Captain Anders was not like him – not an Omega officer. If it had been the Invictus guarding the aperture and the Falchion trying to run, Sterling wouldn’t have hesitated. He’d have launched everything he had and reduced the Falchion to dust. That was the difference between himself and the other Fleet captains. And ultimately that was difference between winning and losing the war. Fleet will learn this to its cost in the days ahead, Sterling considered as his disembodied thoughts continued to fill the absence. Hopefully, the cost will not to be too high…
Sterling and the Invictus exploded back into normal space on the other side of the aperture and a cacophony of strident alarms immediately blared out onto the bridge. Sterling was suddenly bathed in the crimson hue of the battle stations alert lights, and he quickly realized why. Ahead of him on the viewscreen were three Sa’Nerran Skirmishers and the Invictus was heading straight for them.
Sterling stood tall and tapped his neural interface, opening the link to the entire crew.
“All hands… battle stations…”
Chapter 3
The battle titan
The flash from the Invictus’ plasma rail cannons lit up the Void and moments later the lead Sa’Nerran Skirmisher had been obliterated. Impacts from the debris of the enemy warship hammered into the hull of the ship as its momentum carried it through the wreckage. Sterling glanced down at his damage report screen and saw a dozen sections of their regenerative armor turn from green to dark amber. However, just as quickly as the damage had been sustained, their self-regenerating protective shell began to knit itself back together again.
“Full-power turn, Ensign,” Sterling called out. “Get us behind that second ship before it has a chance to react.”
“Aye sir,” Keller called out.
The starfield on the viewscreen became a blur as the gifted pilot maneuvered the Marauder-class warship in pursuit of the second enemy vessel. Sterling was forced to put his weight forward and grip the sides of his console again to compensate for the delay in the inertial negation systems. It was like standing on a bus while it was taking a sharp corner and being forced to grip onto the handrails more tightly.
“Torpedoes away!” Lieutenant Shade called over the weapons control console.
Sterling saw the weapons race out from the aft launchers of the Invictus and pursue the third Sa’Nerran Skirmisher. Like Shade, he doubted that the torpedoes would reach their target before the alien ship’s point defense guns took them out. However, all they needed to do was distract the enemy warship and buy them enough time to deal with its companion. The second Skirmisher came into view ahead, though Keller’s alien counterpart was doing an admirable job of evading the Invictus’ guns.
“I’m switching weapons to manual,” Shade announced, as three hard thuds reverberated through the deck from incoming plasma fire. “The Sa’Nerran jamming fields are blocking our targeting sensors.”
“Direct hit broad on the port quarter,” Banks called out, as another thud shook the deck, forcing the first officer to steady herself against her console. “Regenerative armor failing. Minor hull breach.”
Sterling silently cursed the alien gunner who’d managed to poke a hole in his vessel, then turned to Shade. “Lieutenant, we can’t hold this course for long,” he said, noting more sections of their armor turn dark amber or red. “Take them out, now.”
“Standby…” Shade replied, her gaze laser-focused onto the manual targeting display. Sterling saw the glowing reticule dance across the viewscreen then land on the enemy warship’s engineering section. “Locked on… Firing!”
The viewscreen briefly went white as the rail guns fired again, but the display compensated in time to show the plasma blasts tearing through the starboard beam of the Skirmisher. Crippled, the enemy vessel listed out of control, spewing fire and arcs of electricity into the Void.
“Target neutralized, weapons resetting,” Shade called through gritted teeth. Combat was the only thing that made Opal Shade come alive and she was relishing every second of the encounter.
“Coming about!” Keller shouted, turning the Invictus away from the stricken vessel.
Sterling gripped hard to his console again, but the final Skirmisher had predicted the move and remained on their tail. Seconds later, more powerful impacts thudded through the deck. Sterling didn’t need his console to tell him that the damage was serious – he could feel it, as if the ship was an extension of his own body.
“Hull breach, cargo bay,” said Banks.
Sterling glanced at his console and saw that in its eagerness to score a hit, the Skirmisher had left itself in a bad position.
“Zero safeties on the aft torpedoes,” Sterling called out. The damage assessment could wait – he had a fractional window in which to act, otherwise their chance was gone. “Fire - now, now, now!”
Shade reacted instantly, disabling the safeties on their torpedoes and snap-shooting them from the aft launchers. The viewscreen switched to a view of the pursuing Skirmisher which, as Sterling had anticipated, had remained tight in on their tail. He cursed out loud as the first torpedo missed and snaked out into the darkness. The second one struck true and the Skirmisher detonated violently. The explosion was so close to the Invictus that the shockwave literally rattled Sterling’s teeth. More alarms wailed and the damage control readout on his console went momentarily haywire. Then the alarms all steadily began to fall silent and the shimmies and vibrations through the deck subsided.
“All enemy vessels destroyed,” Lieutenant Shade confirmed. “No more contacts on the scanner.”
“Hull breaches secured,” Banks added, looking down at her console. “Regenerative armor holding.” Banks then sighed and flashed her eyes at Sterling. “We’ll need to hammer a few more dings out of the hull, but we’re okay. No critical systems were damaged.”
Sterling nodded and pushed himself away from his console. “Stand down from battle stations,” he said, staring out at the burning remains of the three Sa’Nerran Skirmishers.
The red alert lighting faded and the regular bridge lights switched back on. A melodious if chaotic howl then emanated from the direction of Banks’ console and Sterling glanced down to see Jinx the Beagle wagging her tail. The hound appeared to be peering at the wreckage of the alien warships on the viewscreen.
“I think she approves of our victory,” said Banks, bending down to pet the dog.
“You’re going to have to figure out a more appropriate station for Acting Ensign Jinx,” said Sterling, frowning at the Beagle. “I’d forgot the damned thing was still on the bridge.”
“It’s a dog, not a thing, Captain,” Banks hit back, sounding suddenly defensive. Sterling glowered at his first officer and she straightened to attention, realizing her slip. “But, yes sir, I’ll make sure Jinx stays out of the way,” she added, in a more professional tone.
“Captain, since we’re low on supplies, might it be worth analyzing the wreckage for anything salvageable?” Lieutenant Shade asked, appropriately steering the conversation away from canine matters and back to the mission. “At the very least, there might be some tech or metals that we can adapt and use to fabricate spare components.”
Sterling considered this then nodded. “While I don’t relish the idea of eating salvaged Sa’Nerran meal trays, it’s worth a shot,” he replied to Shade. T
hen he glanced out through the viewscreen again, anxiously watching the pulsing beacons surrounding the aperture. “But before we commit to a salvage op, I want to be sure Fleet or the Sa’Nerra won’t catch us with our cargo bay doors down, so to speak.”
Banks raised an eyebrow. “That’s a colorful metaphor,” she replied while beginning an analysis of the aperture that led back to G-sector. “So far, I’m only detecting our residual surge energy. There’s nothing to indicate that other Fleet ships are following us through,” Banks added, while continuing to work through the readings.
“Captain Anders will be speaking to Griffin or one of the other admirals in G-sector now,” said Sterling, picturing the scene of havoc they had just left behind. “The top brass are likely still deciding whether to risk coming after us or not.”
Banks' console chimed another update and her scowl deepened. “Wait one… I’m detecting a surge,” Banks said, fingers flashing across her console to analyze the new readings.
“From the aperture to G-sector, or one of the others?” Sterling asked. He wasn’t thrilled at the prospect of having to deal with any Fleet ships that had been sent after them. However, the alternative – more Sa’Nerran warships – wasn’t particularly appealing to him either.
“It’s from an aperture at the far side of the sector,” Banks finally answered. “Correction, I’m picking up surge fields from four apertures, all of them vectoring into the Sa’Nerran half of the void.” There was then a brief pause, during which time Banks’ eyes grew wide. “Wow…” she said, taking a step back from the console and holding up her hands, as if the surface had suddenly become electrified.
“Is that a good ‘wow’ or a bad ‘wow’?” Sterling asked, though, as always, he instinctively assumed the worst.
“Take a look for yourself,” replied Banks, tapping a few quick commands into the console then peering up at the viewscreen.
Sterling frowned and adjusted his gaze to the screen. “Wow…” he said, parroting his first officer. Surge flashes were popping off in space like a fourth-of-July fireworks display.
“One hundred and fifty-eight, so far…” Banks said, switching her focus between her console and the viewscreen. “Two forty… three hundred… Hell, they just keep on coming.”
“Ensign Keller, set a course for the aperture to Colony Middle Star and engage at best possible speed,” ordered Sterling, wasting no time in getting the Invictus moving again.
“Aye, Captain,” replied Keller, snapping into action like a mousetrap. Moments later the thrum of the engines through the deck plating began to build and Sterling felt the ship accelerate hard.
“They’ve seen us,” said Banks, who was still frantically working at her station. Sterling tapped his finger on the side of his console, waiting for Banks to announce whether any ships from the alien armada had splintered off to pursue them.
“There are now over four hundred Sa’Nerran warships in the sector, and the surge energy readings are not diminishing,” Banks continued, still peering down at her console. “So far, there’s no indication any of the vessels have adjusted course to intercept us.”
Sterling let out the breath he realized he’d been holding for the last few seconds and nodded to Banks. “Let’s not give them any reason to come after us,” he said, turning his attention back to the viewscreen and the growing armada of alien warships. “Hopefully, a single ship isn’t worth their time.”
Banks' console them chimed again and Sterling felt his stomach knot.
“We’ve just monitored a massive spike in surge energy,” said Banks, ramping up her rate of speech almost as rapidly as Sterling's pulse was climbing. “Something big is coming though…”
Sterling fixed his eyes on the viewscreen and waited. There was a flash, so bright that it could have been a supernova. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Banks return her gaze to her console, working through the sensor data to figure out what had just arrived. However, the answer was already clear to see on the viewscreen. It was another Sa’Nerra warship. However, this vessel was unique and it was also not the first time Sterling had seen it.
“It’s the super-weapon,” said Banks, glancing up from her console to look at the ten-kilometer-long leviathan on the viewscreen.
“It’s actually the Sa’Nerran Battle Titan,” Sterling said, correcting his first officer. “That’s what they’ve decided to call the thing,” he added, tearing his eyes away from the screen to look at Banks.
“How the hell are we supposed to take that down?” wondered Banks, shaking her head at the image of the warship.
Sterling also turned back to the viewscreen and frowned at the vessel. “The bigger they come, the harder they fall, Commander,” he said, as more surge flashes popped off behind the Battle Titan. “But right now, we have other concerns.”
“Captain, I’m picking up another vessel near the aperture to Colony Middle Star,” said Ensign Keller, spinning his chair to face the captain’s console. “It’s an old generation-one Fleet Destroyer, though it appears to be heavily modified.”
“A Marshall?” wondered Banks, tapping her console and throwing an image of the new contact up onto the viewscreen.
“Monitor that destroyer closely, Ensign,” said Sterling. He’d had the same thought as Banks and was taking no chances. “If it turns toward us or deviates from its course, I want to know immediately.”
Keller uttered a brisk reply as Sterling turned his attention back to the Sa’Nerran armada. It was now approaching eight hundred vessels strong. However, despite the mass of warships that had already arrived, there was still one missing.
“Are you picking up MAUL in the Sa’Nerran aramada?” asked Sterling, glancing over to his first officer.
“Negative,” Banks replied. Her response had been instantaneous, suggesting she’d spotted the curious anomaly too.
“Then where the hell is that devious bastard?” said Sterling, muttering the words under his breath.
“The gen-one destroyer has surged Captain,” Ensign Keller called out. “From the vector of the residual surge energy, I’d say it was also heading to Colony Middle Star.”
Sterling cursed then let out another long sigh. If it wasn’t the Sa’Nerran trying to kill him, it was his own kind. He rubbed his eyes and the back of his neck, feeling suddenly dog-tired and weary.
“Maintain your course, Ensign,” Sterling replied to his helmsman. “We’ll worry about that old destroyer later.”
Keller responded in his usual, snappy manner. However, despite what he’d just said, in truth the destroyer was already on Sterling’s mind. The war fleet amassing in the Void was not his immediate concern, nor was it a threat to his mission to find Colicos. However, if the old Fleet Destroyer that had just surged ahead of them was a Marshall, he knew that he was merely leaving one problem behind and flying headlong into another.
Chapter 4
Intense dreams
Sterling aimed his plasma pistol at the head of Commander Ariel Gunn, but kept his eyes fixed onto the Sa’Nerran warrior. The alien merely hissed back at him and tightened its grip around Gunn’s throat. The creature’s long, leathery fingers were slowly choking the life out of his friend’s terrified eyes. The indicators on the neural control weapon attached to Gunn’s head were blinking furiously as it worked to pervert her mind and turn her into a weapon of the Sa’Nerra. Sterling could already see the spidery trail of corruption leaking out from Gunn’s neural implant. He knew it wouldn’t be long before her mind was turned.
She’s already gone… Sterling told himself. She’s not Ariel any longer. She’s just another puppet with the Sa’Nerra pulling the strings.
Sterling tightened his grip on his plasma pistol and retuned his gaze to the yellow eyes of the alien warrior. The Sa’Nerran had already killed or turned other members of the Fleet Dreadnaught Hammer’s crew and now it was trying to turn Ariel Gunn too. Anger surged through his veins and he gritted his teeth, ready to squeeze the trigger and put an end to
the threat. Gunn was just a casualty of war, he told himself. She’d made her choices, and she’d made bad ones. She alone bore the blame for her death. Sterling was merely doing what he had to – what was necessary.
“You’ve killed her before, you can do it again,” said the Sa’Nerran in a waspish perversion of the English language. Sterling froze and relaxed his grip on the trigger. The shock of hearing the alien speak to him had caught him off guard. “Go on, kill your so-called friend,” the alien continued, goading Sterling while fixing him with its egg-shaped yellow eyes.
“Her blood is on your hands, not mine!” Sterling yelled back at the alien. “If you think I won’t do it then you’re sorely mistaken.”
Sterling then straightened his arm and fired, blasting the head of Commander Ariel Gunn clean off her shoulders. The smell of charred and burned human flesh assaulted his senses, but he held firm and returned his focus to the alien.
“You can test me all you like, alien, but you’ll never win,” Sterling spat at the warrior. “I will do whatever it takes to bring you down.”
The Sa’Nerran’s yellow eyes grew even wider and the perverted smile on its hard, plasticky face grew wider, making the thing look like a grotesque caricature of itself.
“You could kill her easily, because you’ve done it before,” the alien hissed. “But will you be so ready to kill this one?” A freakish smile curled its thin, slug-like lips.
Sterling frowned and looked at Gunn, but instead of a headless body he was now staring into the eyes of Mercedes Banks. Sterling felt his stomach churn and his throat tighten. Then as the alien wrapped its leathery digits around his first officer’s throat, Sterling’s sick feeling was replaced with burning anger.
“Let her go, you bastard!” he yelled, trying to aim his pistol at the warrior, but the alien had expertly slipped behind Banks to use her as a shield. Suddenly, a neural control weapon appeared on the side of Banks’ head, as if it had materialized out of thin air. However, this was not the original, cruder device, but the modified weapon that had been responsible for the creation of the Sa’Nerran Emissaries, Clinton Crow and Lana McQueen.
