“I can't help it. I don't want to lose you. I love you and want you with me. Frank.”
“I love you too. It’ll be alright you'll see,” he said, and they embraced again.
“How long before you must leave,” she asked.
“About twenty minutes.”
She looked very disappointed. “Then we must make the time we have now, special.”
“I agree,” he murmured. Kissed her again, then they turned and headed for the bedroom.
The two minute. Then ten-second exit-jump warnings sounded in the crew’s transceiver implants, as Andromeda again prepared for action.
The ship exited jump into Normal-space, screens up, weapons and systems on auto-alert.
Suddenly, stars swirled as Andromeda adjusted her angle again, to re-align once more with Zeta One.
As she swung, the boiling suns of Reticuli blinded them for a moment and contact alarms sounded.
There would be no time to recharge the warp core, even if it could get them anywhere.
Andromeda slipped between the two stars with her photon-drive flat out, leaving a trail of blue, white light behind.
Their target, the wormhole, was only three light-seconds to the left of Zeta One. It would still take approximately two minutes at sub-light speed, to reach a distance safe enough to eject the Telta Chamber into the wormhole.
One minute and counting.
The wormhole could now be seen dead ahead.
Andromeda quickly realized she needed her holding-bay door to be facing the wormhole.
“Incoming!” Andromeda informed, as her shields flared, absorbing energy bolts from two alien ships.
A volley of particle beams found the two small Crillon defense ships. One vaporized in a cloud of plasma. The other ship veered off.
The reason was then apparent, as four new, and larger ships appeared. Just ten light-seconds behind Andromeda.
-Ω-
Arans, the Crillon flagship Commander, watched his remaining fleet of four battlecruisers as they exited warp.
He cursed as he realized he had been driven off course by the chromospheric and gravimetric distortion of Reticuli. Leaving him ten light seconds behind this gold colored intruder.
-Ω-
“Twenty Seconds,” said Andromeda, counting down.
“Launch two stealth-drones now. Pattern Omega 3,” snapped Frank.
The wormhole's black center, surrounded by an opalescent shimmer of filaments that teased the mind, was now rapidly growing larger by the second.
Andromeda slid to a halt, with the holding bay door on the wormhole side. Then the two stealth drones shot out, on their pre-programed assignments.
-Ω-
“It’s stopped,” shouted Arans. “Destroy it!”
“It’s out of range, sir.”
“It's stopped, dammit! We'll hurtle past it without firing a shot; you moron!”
With that, a barrage of particle beams left the four Crillon ships at the same time.
-Ω-
“Incoming,” Andromeda warned. “Nine seconds!”
“Come On!” Mark shouted over the comms link, as the Telta Chamber shot out along the rail and into the wormhole.
”Andromeda. Turn the ship. Fast!”
Instead of trying to turn the ship, she rolled it instead.
Giving her only three seconds to launch the alien’s survival-pod, at the incoming salvo, with the pod in an inverted mode.
Just time enough for the alien’s pod to clear Andromeda's screens.
The two met, with a titanic explosion. Then Andromeda fired her own particle-beam salvo, with Frank watching as it passed through the growing cloud of plasma and debris, and straight into the Crillon ships that were almost on top of them.
At the same time, Andromeda closed the holding bay door. Rolled the ship back. Then fired her photon-drive at full power. With crew members, unaware of what was happening, being pushed backwards as they rapidly accelerated away.
“Six seconds to detonation,” Andromeda warned them, as flashes, went off behind them.
“One down,” Frank muttered as he watched his tactical screen.
The small Crillon defense ship dived into the wormhole.
Now, only three main contact-blips remained. Those of the three Crillon battlecruisers, which had slowed, after taking a hit.
Then a burst of bright green light emanated from the mouth of the wormhole as it began to shrink. The wormhole then expanded to six times its original size. Spewing out chunks of metal that had probably come from the small Crillon ship, that had tried to escape through the collapsing wormhole, but had been caught in transit, and destroyed.
The wormhole puffed outward, then shrank back, into nothingness.
Chapter 24.
Wormhole.
Arans stared in disbelief; the wormhole had gone. So had any hope of getting back to his home planet. His fleet was trapped, and so was Fleet Twelve.
Like the Earth ships, his ships were no better off. They couldn’t jump far enough, without replacing their warp generators.
He weighed up his options.
This golden ship has destroyed three of ours, he thought, discounting the little defense ship. The first one, from Fleet Twelve, then Axon’s. Plus, one of mine, now.
This left him with only four ships, assuming Captain Petar's ship arrived back in one piece.
So, he would have to follow the intruder at a safe distance, while waiting for tactical updates from his ships.
‘Wait a minute,’ he thought. 'Why hasn't this golden alien ship jumped?' Then realized. They had used up their jump-quota and only had photon-drive left.
Now Arans felt better. He could destroy this fool before Fleet Twelve arrived.
Then, a sudden chill came over him, as he realized the danger of going his own way previously, and, of not informing Fleet Twelve where he was going!
Now, it was all up to him.
-Ω-
“Andromeda, status, please?” Frank asked.
“A few people hit by objects that weren't magnetically anchored when I rolled. No warp and the photon drive won't last forever. Yes, all things considered, it’s pretty grim.”
“Oh, not so bad then,” Frank said. “What are the Crillons doing? My sensor shows them following us.”
“Mine does, as well. But maybe not for long. I think their Commander will soon realize we have no warp capability.”
“Where are the two stealth-drones?”
“One's been filming the wormhole. The other, watching the Crillon ships.”
“Get the drone back from the wormhole area, and leave the other drone where it is. It can pre-warn us when they initiate their principal weapon.”
“Frank. I think they've twigged our situation already. Their three ships are speeding up.”
“OK. Andromeda. Some evasive action wouldn’t go amiss,” Frank said, tapping Mark's icon.
“Yes, Frank?”
“We’re in for a fight.”
“On it. Targeting systems are good-to-go.”
Then he tapped Ned's Icon.
“Yes, Frank?”
“Can you get any more Jump power on the warp-drive?”
“Well, funny you should ask that. Yes, about half a light-year, then zilch!”
“Better than nothing. Key in the jump initiation trigger with Andromeda.”
“I don't need to, she can override anyway.”
“Of course, thanks,” he said. Then closed both contacts, thinking to himself, I should have realized that I must be losing my grip. He then tapped Tim's icon, quickly bringing Astro online.
“Yes.”
“Our Crillon friends seem to have had trouble with targeting when they were in the star's chromosphere.
See if you can think of something special to add to Andromeda's evasive solutions strategy.”
“Will do.”
Frank cleared all the active icons. A slight sensation, as Andromeda changed her direction, made him look at
the star field.
They were now heading to the point where the gravimetric distortion was greatest, and though the chromosphere between the two stars was minimal, he could see that there was indeed still an effect worth exploiting.
Andromeda7, with her photon-drive flat out, and leaving a trail of bluish white light behind, slowly reached point one light speed.
Given long enough, she would just manage to arrive at a light speed of point two. Even so, the Crillon ships were catching her up and would soon be in firing range.
-Ω-
Watching his closing speed on the intruder, Arans took no chances. He ordered his ships to fire their Antimatter weapons at the fleeing vessel.
Then, seeing the Antimatter build-up at the rear of his own ships, smiled.
'Got you,’ he thought.
-Ω-
Andromeda received the alien's weapon build-up data from the stealth drone that was following the Crillon ships.
The moment the Antimatter disappeared into the center tube of the Crillon ships, Andromeda jumped about half a light-year towards earth's sun.
Then started the location beacon's coded transmission, sending it to any Earth ship that may already be on route to them.
-Ω-
Again, Arans couldn't believe his eyes or his instruments. The gold ship had jumped.
‘How was that possible,' he wondered. He had been so sure that it had run out of jump-quota.
Or was it just a trick. No, they couldn't have known which way was safe to leave after destroying the wormhole.
Something flashed by, just registering on his ship's instruments, and was gone. Arans scratched his bald head.
A phantom ship? No, he thought. Not likely. Hardly any mass had been registered.
He touched the communicator device built into his epaulette.
“Yes sir,” came a voice.
“All of you, start searching for that ship. I want it found!”
“But, search where sir?” came a nervous voice.
“About two light-years out, you fool,” he barked.
“If you can't use your head, I'll dump you in space!”
“But... Yes, sir.”
He was alone with his thoughts. How is it we haven't come across this race before, he wondered.
There's no way to get back to our own planet, six hundred light-years away, even a new warp-drive wouldn’t get us that far.
The warp crystal’s quota is only 100 light-years, and Tarcan, Fleet Twelve's IC commander, has the only ship with crystal growing facilities.'
He looked at his star maps and finally realized that, because there was no way back, they were, in essence, already dead.
Too late now, he decided and sighed. We should have set up a warp-drive manufacturing plant, at the Gateway when we first came into this sector.
He took out his small silver snuff container from his pocket. Opened it and sniffed the contents. Then, returned it to his pocket. Feeling much better.
Fleet Twelve must return here soon, and Tarcan will get a real shock. No wormhole to get them home.
Serves them right, he angrily thought. They should have listened to me and checked this sector out… Before blasting every planet in sight… Damn them all.
Chapter 25.
Hide and Seek.
Half a light-year away. The Andromeda hung in space, her warp capability gone, and her photon-drive virtually out of power.
Frank tapped Ned's Icon. “We're a sitting duck, Ned,” plenty of reactor power, but the bits that drive us, practically useless. Any good news from anyone?”
“Not really Frank. We're trying to see if we can replace the parts of the warp core that are blown. But, we have no way of manufacturing anything, so it's very unlikely we'll succeed
We really need the extra ships. If indeed they are coming.”
Frank sent a heightened mental request to Andromeda, 'Are you running search scans for any of the Earth ships as well?'
'Yes, but there's nothing yet. The stealth drone should have more information for us on their whereabouts when it catches up.'
'Any casualties?'
'No, a few people bruised when I rolled the ship, that's all.
'Fine, we can live with that. We were lucky.'
-Ω-
Arans was startled for a moment, as the ship he had sent back to the last planet to find out what had happened to Axon, dropped from warp, just off his port bow.
“Welcome, Commander Petar,” Arans said. As a gaunt looking, Crillon's face appeared on his screen.
“What have you done to the wormhole sir?”
“The intruder destroyed it.”
“What? How?”
“An internal detonation. What news have you got? Apart from the fact that the intruder literally flung Axon's survival pod at us.”
“Ashua!” the commander swore. “There was nothing left of Axon's ship. In orbit, or on the ground.”
“I have a bad feeling Captain,” said Arans.
“Do you realize that we can't get back to Crilla? Our warp drives will soon burn out, and Fleet Twelve should be here, but it isn't. Have I missed anything?”
“No, sir.”
“We need to find this intruder’s home planet, as soon as we can,” continued Arans.
“We need it to be intact. We need their resources to survive, and, if Fleet Twelve's crystal production ship has been lost, we need their manufacturing facility, if they have one, to enable us to get home.”
“I agree,” commander Petar replied.
“The good news is that we have four working ships, against their one, and assuming Fleet Twelve have enough warp capacity, at least another nine ships when they get here.
And, remember, Fleet Twelve can't get back to Crilla through the now defunct wormhole. So, they'll have to go with us, and we will be in control,” he finished with a triumphant beam on his face.
Arans touched his communications device. “Yes sir,” came a voice.
“Have you found that ship yet?”
“No, sir.”
“I want it found now!”
“Trying sir.”
“Don't just try. Do it!”
“Yes sir,” he replied. Then the communicator was silent.
“Damn morons,” Arans growled to Captain Petar.
“They are everywhere, sir.”
“Indeed. Please join our group.”
“Will do sir.”
-Ω-
Andromeda, with her photon-drive running at twenty percent, moved slowly through space a quarter of a light-year away from the Crillon ships.
“Frank, we've detected the stealth drone approaching.”
“About time,” he replied as he saw the drone in the distance.
The stealth drone swept past them, with its miniature photon-drive flaring, then shut-off its drive and made the rendezvous with Andromeda in one majestic swing.
Then, reaching the partially open holding-bay door, the drone slipped effortlessly inside, with the door sliding shut behind it.
Within ten minutes, Susanna's face popped up on Frank's screen, “Great news, we've downloaded everything from the stealth drone.”
“And?”
“There are only three ships. But they look very different than ours and more dangerous,” Susanna said. Looking almost as if she would be able to jump out of the screen if Frank asked her.
“We were lucky,” he replied. “The alien ship's screen didn't close fast enough after firing his weapon.”
“True. I would… Ah… Just a minute Frank, Astro’s calling. I'll patch it through to you as well.”
Tim's face appeared on the screen next to Susanna's.
“Hi, you two. Our scopes have picked up another Crillon ship joining the others.”
“So, there are four of them now,” Frank muttered.
“Afraid so. We wouldn't have picked it up, except for detecting its signal warping in. But at least now we can track all of them.”
“Good. Tim
, you seem uncertain about something?”
“Well, yes. The alien ship's warp characteristic appears to be the same as ours was the last time we jumped when we were struggling.”
“So, what are you driving at?”
“I think they're in trouble with their warp quota. We all know the toll that warping takes on the warp core. With the resultant core disintegration.”
”You may be right, Tim,” Susanna said. “After all, they must be governed by the same laws of physics as we are.”
“Yes, and even though they may be able to jump further than us, I guess, it's a swings-and-roundabout situation.”
-Ω-
Arans was watching his tactical screen when a call came in from Commander Gratigo.
“Yes, what is it, Commander? Has someone found that 'golden colored’ ship?”
“No sir, not yet. It's just that; we really need to get back to our home planet. Our warp engines only have twenty-one light-years left sir.”
“What do you expect me to do?” Arans grumbled. Not knowing for himself, what to do.
“Perhaps the wormhole can be re-established?” suggested the Captain.
“And maybe not,” Arans replied. Waving him off with an angry gesture. “I'll let you know what to do when I know.”
He sat back and thought. We know nothing at all about these aliens, apart from the apparently high levels of technology they have. Particularly in Warp Technology.
The Definitive SpaceFed Trilogy (SpaceFed StarShips Trilogy).: A thrilling, action-packed Sci-fi space adventure. (SpaceFed StarShips Series Book 8) Page 14
