Voknor sits in his command chair, then chuckles, “Won’t they be in for a surprise! They detonate a radiologic weapon, and then we turn up!”
The crew laughs with Voknor, even Lilpax. They have yet to come across a planet where the inhabitants were not shocked upon their arrival. Some would bring their meager military units as a show of force, others simply begged for their lives. The frightened species, the ones who pleaded for their lives as they cried, disgusted Lilpax.
Meanwhile, on the planet below, Prime Lokarz waits for his mining craft to return. When the last one is finally on board, he orders, “Get us into space!”
Like many Gamin, Lokarz is not keen to be on the ground, especially in potentially hostile territory. He frowns as he notices the energy output to the gravity lift increasing beyond one hundred-ten percent, and yet they remain solidly on the ground.
“I can’t push the gravity plates much more!” Reports one of Lokarz’s bridge crew anxiously.
Lilpax monitors the launch with trepidation. She glances to Voknor, annoyed that he seems to not care. She notices that he keeps glancing at his chair’s consoles and steps closer to see to see what is so important. She stops cold when she sees Lokarz’s craft displayed, including indications of imminent gravity plate failure.
Voknor taps on his small console, sends a message, then lifts his gaze to meet Lilpax’s. He grins at her obvious awkwardness over begin caught staring at him. She blushes under his scrutiny, then returns to her console.
Lokarz reads his message, then confidently orders, “Engage the sub-light engines, minimum thrust.”
The craft begins to shake and shudder, but finally lifts off the ground, and joins the fleet in orbit. The crater left behind by the sub-light engines is small, yet indicative of the powers unleashed.
Voknor grins, then orders, “Let’s go visit that other world!”
The moment they arrive in orbit, the fleet picks up messages from the planet below. Apparently long range satellites had detected the fleet’s approach, both alerting the citizens, and terrifying them. This put overwhelming pressure on the planet’s leaders, who decided to talk, and not fight. A good decision for them.
The planet’s multiple governments, and leaders, cause minor problems at first, but one low orbit pass by the flagship quickly secures their full cooperation. Regent Voknor leans back in his command chair and smiles as the small delegation of leaders from the planet below, bow before him. Without harming a single native, he has secured a landing zone, and the promise of vast amounts of resources. They are the usual bipedal variety, and although almost as tall as the average Gamin, they are slender, and frail looking.
As the delegation leaves, under the watchful eye of Prytec, Voknor contacts Prime Lokarz and orders, “Land at the coordinates given, and begin construction of the dock!”
“With pleasure!” Lokarz replies happily.
Frazik completes his assessment of the planet, and relays his findings, “Orbital scans indicate that the planet’s average day and night is slightly longer than ours. Its gravity is less than our home world, the daily temperatures higher, and the atmosphere is drier. All in all, this planet is less than desirable for any long-term stay.”
“Understood,” Voknor replies, then watches as his fleet assumes its usual positions.
Lokarz lands, and immediately begins constructing the dock. Resources soon begin to arrive by ground vehicle, and are directed inside the hangar deck where they unload. The speed at which the locals capitulate, and begin supplying meat, along with all the raw materials requested, pleases Lokarz and the other Primes. Within ten local days the dock is completed, and the initial framework of a new craft begins to show.
Lilpax is stunned by the speed and efficiency of Lokarz’s crew, and feels a swelling of pride in Regent Voknor. She gulps as her thoughts drift; soon she will approach him, and following the teachings of the Den Mother, offer up her first egg, when the time comes. She turns her attention back to her console, and her duties.
Another fleet of local vehicles arrive, and drives past the Gamin guards and up the ramp, into Lokarz’s ship. The drivers unload their cargo onto the hangar deck floor. The guards stare in shock at what tumbles out; instead of ore, large quantities of an unfamiliar material spills forth instead. Seconds later, the entire fleet of trucks, and their cargo, detonates; an atomic level detonation. The light’s intensity is blinding, while the deep boom that resonates can be heard many miles away.
The shock wave that follows instantly vaporizes everything in the hangar deck. A huge gout of flame bursts down the ramp, scorching all it reaches.
Those outside the vessel watch in horror as the hull and armor buckles outward for a fraction of a second, then falls back, and in some sections, collapses inside. The powerful blast travels forward through the ship, vaporizing internal decks, and crew alike, then upon reaching the hatchery, its energies scorch and kill the unborn hatchlings.
The command levels are relatively safe, even so, Prime Lokarz and his command crew are thrown from their chairs. The power grid fluctuates, then fails. For the first time in his life, Lokarz hears the subtle whir of the life support systems slow, then stop.
If this were all the damage, then that would be bad enough, but it is not. The blast travels to the engine area, through the thin doorways, and then destroys the engine control circuits. The capacitors in the main engines unleash their power in an instant, activating the main drive. Without control units, the engines would normally run at maximum until their power source was exhausted, but with the craft being on the planet, and not moving, the energies have no way of venting, and build up.
Lilpax screams, “Regent! Lokarz’s craft has been sabotaged!”
Regent Voknor stares down at the carnage from orbit, then immediately orders, “I don’t care how you do it, rescue any survivors!”
“Yes, Regent,” Machkno replies as he stares at the energy readouts on his console. He contacts the fleet and advises that shuttles will be needed, and soon, if they hope to rescue anyone.
Prime Lokarz is dazed, blood flows from a deep gash in his head. He holds a hand to the wound as he staggers to his chair. Its controls are useless. One of his officers nurses an obviously broken arm, while another lays unconscious on the deck. A third officer lays slumped in his chair, while the last of them shakes his head clear as he touches his powerless console.
Inexplicably, power returns to the bridge systems. Lokarz stabs at his ship-wide communications icon and shouts, “To all crew, I want section reports.”
When there is no reply, he gazes around apprehensively. A shuffling sound reaches his ears; he turns in time to see two Gamin holding a third up between them. They stagger onto the bridge, burned, cut, and bleeding.
“It’s all gone!” States one of them as he collapses into a chair.
“The engines are overloading!” Exclaims the officer who has been tapping on his console, “And I can’t shut them down!”
“Prime Lokarz!” The voice crackles intermittently from the bridge speakers.
“Regent?” Lokarz, queries apprehensively.
“Can your crew get to the hangar deck?”
Lokarz turns to the three who came in; the pair who are still conscious shake their heads.
“It looks like we’re trapped!” Lokarz replies.
A few moments of silence pass before Regent Voknor instructs, “We will be firing main weapons on the armor at the base of the command levels, to punch a hole in the hull. Get all survivors to the area, but wait for it to be breached. We will have shuttles on standby to transport survivors.”
“Understood!” Lokarz replies, then immediately reactivates the ship-wide channel, ordering, “All crew, evacuate the lower command levels now, and prepare for impact. I repeat, all crew evacuate the lower command levels, then prepare to return for pickup once the hull is breached.” He puts the order on a continuous loop, so that it plays over and over, then stands.
The able bodied assist th
ose are who are not, and make their way to the expected rescue point.
The impact to the ship is staggering, the kinetic energies of the flagship’s main weapons shatter the hull, and cause all who are standing to collapse against the walls, or fall to the deck. The air pressure changes noticeably, quickly followed by the scent of the planet’s thin atmosphere wafting through the ship.
Lokarz almost drops the unconscious crew member he is helping to support. He shakes his head, splattering blood on the wall as he does, then orders, “Make for the hull breach, hurry!”
The jagged edges of the gaping hole in the hull are testimony to the power of the flagship’s main weapon; kinetic force has driven the hard core deep into the ship, shattering a dozen levels before coming to a rest, its energies spent.
A mere handful of crew are waiting at the opening. A few others are already scrambling onto the outer hull, where they also wait apprehensively. Moments later, a flotilla of shuttles arrives, as other survivors stagger to the rescue point. Lokarz waits until he is the last one, then reluctantly leaves. Fewer than fifty of his crew have survived.
Frazik reviews his console, then quickly turns to Voknor and states, “Lokarz’s engines are about to overload!”
Regent Voknor considers the shuttles that have yet to land in his hangar deck, then orders, “Tell the fleet to rendezvous outside the solar system, we will remain here until all shuttles are on board. Put us between any blast and the shuttles, protect them.”
The tension on the bridge becomes a palpable thing as they wait for the last of the shuttles to load. As soon as they are on board Skylow closes the ramp while Cushkull activates the sub-light engines. Neither officer waits for Voknor’s orders, which is fortunate.
The engines of the shattered ship explode, unleashing the full fury of their pent-up energies in an immense fireball. Lokarz’s ship is blasted into millions of pieces, sending shrapnel in all directions. The ground beneath the engines is instantly vaporized, sending vast plumes of dust into the air. The power unleashed is beyond any basic atomic level explosion and, for a millisecond, rivals the sun. A shockwave of unimaginable power travels one fifth of the way around the planet. It empties small lakes, levels forests, destroys towns and cities, and when it meets the vast lakes and oceans, creates massive waves which roll clear across the watery expanses to wreak havoc on distant shorelines.
Regent Voknor watches from a distance as city lights on the night side of the planet, fade, then one by one, they go out. Explosions rock the planet from damaged power stations, adding to the chaos. The planet itself rebels; once dormant tectonic plates shift, submerging vast tracts of coastline beneath the waves in some areas, while driving up the ocean floor in others. Volcanic eruptions fill the sky with ash, blocking out the sun, precipitating the start of a mini ice age.
Frazik continues to scan the planet, and then turns to Voknor and says, “Well, they are paying the price for destroying Lokarz’s vessel. There are no significant signs of energy output from any of the planet’s power grids, and most of their major cities are destroyed. I estimate their initial casualties to be over three billion, and almost one third of their total number. Given the state of the planet, another third will perish within a few months, with more dying off as time passes. They are in worse shape than we were when the Atlans attacked our home world, at least we had deep underground facilities that remained intact to rebuild from, they don’t.”
“Understood,” Voknor replies softly, and then says impassively, “rendezvous with the fleet, then call a general meeting of the Primes.”
The bridge crew is unfamiliar with Voknor’s subdued tone and demeanor, and quietly follows his orders.
The fleet rests in space, just outside the solar system; shuttles transport the Primes of each craft to the flagship.
Voknor stands before his Primes, lowers his head in shame and humbly pronounces, “I have failed you, and stand ready for challengers.”
“Wait!” Lokarz shouts, “I am at fault! As Prime, I failed to protect my ship!”
“No!” Voknor retorts firmly, “I ordered your ship to land, I am at fault.”
After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Prime Glarth strides forward, then, instead of challenging Regent Voknor, as all expect, turns and stands beside him. He states with conviction, “I stand with a leader who admits his mistakes, because a leader who is willing to do so, is willing to change. I stand ready to defend my Regent against all challengers.”
The room goes deathly quiet; none can recall the last time a Regent was defended in such a way, but it is lawfully permissible, and none dare challenge, especially with Glarth also standing by Voknor’s side.
Prime Roggard glances around as the tension in the room increases, then seizing an opportunity to unify everyone, lifts his clenched fist in the air, and pledges, “My life is yours, Regent Voknor!”
Prime Algathor tilts his head back and forth as he considers whether to challenge or not. He reflects on all of their clan’s accomplishments under Voknor’s rule, then lifts his fist and affirms, “My life is yours, Regent Voknor!”
The room reverberates as the rest of the Primes renew their oaths of allegiance.
Finally, Voknor lifts his head high, then says, “Well, we need to build Lokarz a new ship!”
The Primes chuckle at the brief levity, and enjoy the moment, a temporary respite from the loss of one of their ships.
Prime Gentak has an idea, and shares his thoughts, “Regent, we should refit all craft so that any could build and power a dock. In addition, we could build a dedicated factory craft, one capable of manufacturing all of the specialized components required to complete new vessels.”
Lokarz chimes in, “You know, that’s a good idea! Instead of hand tooling each component, dedicated processes would be more efficient.”
Prime Malflik, who usually remains quiet at these meetings, unexpectedly adds his excited voice. His words hastily tumbling out, “We could install dedicated production lines for consoles, bodysuits, weapons, and more! This would allow the construction dock to focus purely on the main hull, engines, and other basic critical components, such as life support, and internal gravity.”
Regent Voknor feels a chill run up his spine as he shares his own thoughts, “This would get a new spacecraft out of the dock, and into space faster, and keep crucial equipment out of the hands of the locals!”
Malflik continues, “We can add all of the military hardware, like weapons, main shield controllers, the navicon, and so forth, in space, well away from any meddling populace.”
Regent Voknor is well versed in the various ship’s systems and says, “We should build two such vessels, for redundancy purposes.” He considers all the proposed manufacturing processes, then says, “These craft would need to be larger, much larger, and could also be set up to manufacture replacement power plants!”
The Primes stop and stare at Voknor. On the day of one of their worst disasters, he is already planning to build two, larger, replacement craft. The meeting continues for hours as the Primes debate the pros and cons, and then deliberate over the expected size of the craft. Regent Voknor keeps directing them back to one particular size, but still listens to each and every proposal.
Voknor considers how to proceed with his plan, and then announces, “Prime Lokarz, you will get the first of these dedicated construction craft!”
Lokarz lifts his gaze in disbelief. It is virtually unheard of, for a prime who loses their ship to get another, let alone, another larger, more prestigious craft! He is speechless, and simply nods.
Voknor shocks all when he further states, “Prime Malflik, as you seem to be interested, the second one shall be yours! Now I want both of you to discuss your needs with the engineers, and come up with a working design.”
Malflik’s jaw drops in surprise, he turns and stares at Lokarz in disbelief. Both remain quiet as the ramifications of what has transpired sinks in.
Regent Voknor adds, “Prime Malflik, if I reca
ll correctly you have in the past nominated one of your bridge crew for the position of Prime.”
“That is correct!”
“Then you shall have the pleasure of informing your candidate, when the time comes, that they will take over your craft!” Voknor states with a wide smile.
Roggard frowns for a moment as he wonders what his Regent is thinking. He feels a small chill run up his spine as it dawns on him that Voknor is bringing all the Primes together, even those normally considered of lesser importance. He also realizes that by selecting Malflik, Voknor is telling all Primes, that no matter your influence, if you show initiative you will be rewarded.
Voknor’s voice fills the room once more as he assures, “This disaster will never happen again, not to us, and not to an innocent civilization. We will not do to others, as the Atlans did to us! To do so makes us worse than them, and I will not lower us to their standards by eliminating other races, or destroying other civilizations. We will find a balance between obtaining what we need, and doing as little harm as possible.”
Malflik surprises all when he speaks, “Prime Lokarz, you and your surviving crew are welcome on my vessel. We can work together with the fleet’s engineers to design our new craft.”
Voknor hesitantly offers, “Perhaps we would look at the cruiser class the major clans and Emperor use? This would save us a lot of development time.”
Roggard glances up and says, “Regent, you were already considering building a cruiser, that’s why you kept suggesting that size. You do know that protocol dictates only clans one hundred vessels strong are permitted to build them!”
Regent Voknor grins as he replies, “And so we shall be, one day!”
Lokarz stares at Voknor in awe as he mumbles, “A cruiser class vessel! One is ambitious, two is pure insanity for a clan this small.”
Roggard, who is standing nearby whispers back, “Perhaps he is insane? Insane enough to pull it off!”
Voknor grins as he admits, “Yes, I was considering the cruiser class for our clan. But the idea of making them construction ships as well, means that technically we’re not breaking protocol!”
Initiation Series: Series One Compilation (Terran Chronicles) Page 156
