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Initiation Series: Series One Compilation (Terran Chronicles)

Page 175

by James Jackson


  Sharz bravely meets the Regent’s stare for a moment, puzzled by what that means. He slowly replies, “So, you wish to destroy them? I would suggest, ah, other alternatives.”

  The Regent strides to his forward view, past a stunned bridge crew. None have dared to suggest anything of this magnitude to their Regent, not on the bridge, anyway. He gazes out at his fleet for a moment, then turns to Sharz and states, “I was right to promote you. None of the others have the courage to offer their own views. Many just tell me what they think I want to hear. Some of them actually disgust me with their drivel.” Even as he speaks, he realizes that this is not entirely true, many of his Primes speak openly, but they do so in the meeting room, and not on the bridge.

  Lilpax frowns in concern at her mates’ unusual behavior. She knows that the Warmonger class carrier the Atlans have is troubling him deeply. Others on the bridge are also troubled; they too have not seen their Regent so rattled, and short tempered. He is almost behaving irrationally, and if it were not for their loyalty, his position could be challenged.

  Voknor places a hand on Sharz’s shoulder and says, “You shall be responsible for George and any of his actions. Understood?” As Sharz nods, He turns to his bridge crew, and orders, “Contact that ship.”

  Frazik was not expecting to have to contact the stray vessel, and it takes him a moment to comply.

  With a supportive hand still on Sharz’s shoulder, Voknor smirks, “I wonder what the council will think of our clan now?”

  Sharz remains quiet as he wonders if the Emperor even has a council; with the Archons gone.

  Voknor relaxes and states, “Tell Skylow to get back in here!”

  As Skylow enters the bridge, Voknor grins and says, “I owe you an apology. I was caught off guard by the discovery that one of our vessels may have fallen into Atlan hands. Even more so to find that our efforts to contain a lesser civilization, were useless.”

  The bridge too, is surprised by Voknor’s apology, including Skylow, who replies, “I understand. If one of our ships were to be used against another clan, we would be held accountable, and probably hunted to extinction.”

  Voknor takes a deep breath, then states, “Well, my words were poorly chosen, I won’t let that happen again.”

  Skylow and Sharz silently lift their fists, as does the rest of the bridge crew.

  Voknor then presses, “And you are sure that Regents Jukalore and Hemlax are oblivious to the stray vessels existence?”

  “Absolutely!” Skylow responds, then queries, “And I take it, for now, you wish it to remain that way?”

  “Correct!” Voknor replies, then adds, “I will not waste their time again, on yet another frivolous discovery.”

  Sharz glances to the main viewer, then asks, “If we do not destroy them, then what do we do? Help them?”

  “We will determine what they are doing, and if they need help, we will assist them!” Voknor agrees.

  The bridge crew goes quiet for a moment, then Sharz chuckles as he shares his thoughts, “Would we be so bold as to defy the Emperor’s edicts and protocols, dictating that we do nothing that could benefit other races.” He hesitates, grins, then adds, “Like trading with the Kord!”

  Voknor sits in his command chair as he states, “Then we defy another Imperial edict!”

  Lilpax feels a wash of pride at her mate, their Regent, and relaxes. He seems to be returning to his normal self.

  Frazik notices a flashing icon on his console, and says, “I have established a communications link to the vessel.”

  Voknor grins, then states, “It’s time to find out how those humans defeated our satellite grid, and launched our incomplete vessel.”

  Frazik motions as he silently mouths a countdown, then points to Voknor as he opens the channel. A familiar bridge appears before them, as does a familiar race. A female sits in the command chair, with four males operating the main consoles. A bodysuit wearing individual stands at a wall panel; Voknor smiles when he notices that it was his favorite location to work. Other humans occupy the bridge, but seem to be simply sitting, and doing nothing. A thick bundle of cables snake their way out the doorway, connecting the consoles to something out of sight.

  Voknor states bluntly, “I am Regent Voknor. I will speak with George.”

  George bolts upright at the sound of his name. He turns to the view screen and nervously swallows hard.

  The female raises an eyebrow as she replies with authority, “I am Admiral Cindy. I am in charge of the Terran.”

  George closes his eyes and shakes his head from side to side. He has heard this speech before, and is not all surprised by the Regent’s reply.

  “I will say who is to be your representative.” Voknor demands.

  George steps forward, raises his visor, and then whispers to Cindy, “I think I should reply.”

  Cindy sighs, then waves a hand for George to speak.

  George steps out from his suit, stands to Cindy’s left and bows, “Regent Voknor, it is my pleasure to greet you. Once again I am honored by your presence.”

  Voknor’s features soften as he queries, “Is it true that this female is your superior?”

  George stands straight and meets the Regent’s gaze respectfully, “She is, though she is allowing me to speak on her behalf at this time.”

  “She bested you in combat?” The Regent questions.

  George is quite perplexed by this new insight into the Gamin. “Uh no, Regent. Cindy requested my presence on this mission.” He recalls the way Sharz described his own promotion, then says, “I accepted the honor.”

  Regent Voknor relaxes as he replies, “Ah, I understand now.”

  He stares at the humans as he deliberates what to do, then finally he continues. “Some of my Primes would have me destroy your ship, indeed I am sure even the council would object to what I am about to do.”

  Regent Voknor reflects on his choice of words, then begins to laugh at the Emperor’s possible reaction. He grabs his sides with his arms, the bony ridges in his forearms stick out as he opens his mouth wide and roars, revealing a lot of teeth in the process.

  George grins as he recognizes the alien’s laughter; the others on the bridge can only stare at the spectacle in surprise. His grin turns into a frown as he wonders what it is exactly that the Regent is finding funny.

  Voknor regains his composure, then says, “Prime Sharz has suggested that I not only let you live, but that we should assist you.”

  George glances to Cindy, then takes a small step forward, and says cautiously. “Your assistance in getting us home would be greatly appreciated. We would be in your debt.”

  “Speak freely, as you have done in the past.” Voknor replies as he motions to the human.

  George takes a deep breath, then states their needs. “We’re experiencing constant problems with the plating we installed to compliment the ship’s gravity plates. We’re also suffering from a chronic shortage of power.”

  Regent Voknor replies almost instantly. “You have sufficient power to get you to your planet. Specifications on how to fabricate your own gravity plating will be transmitted along with the formula to adjust the gravity to your own.”

  Cindy shifts in her chair as she prepares to reply, but catches George’s sideways glance, and remains quiet.

  George bows slightly. “Today you have made a friend Regent Voknor, and in doing so, have earned our gratitude. May we one day be able to repay your kindness.”

  Voknor motions to Skylow, who transmits the data; he also adjusts their gravity, and activates the bridge console language translators. He then states, “Few creatures impress me, fewer still do so positively. Be safe George.”

  Voknor taps his armrests as the screen returns to that of the planet, and fleets before them. He sighs, then states, “If they can avoid the Atlans, and the Effen Raiders, they may just make it back to their planet.

  Sharz stares at Voknor for a moment, then realizes that his Regent is giving him a hint. He strides to
a side panel, makes a connection to George’s earpiece, and then quietly warns, “Be careful and go home. It’s too dangerous for your kind out here.”

  Voknor smiles as he pretends not to hear the message, then orders, “Sharz, return to your vessel. I expect we will be departing this area soon.”

  Sharz nods as he replies, “They are a tenacious species, and also, so naïve; I hope they make it.”

  Voknor pauses, then says, “Update their navicon, and add that ship to our fleet’s register; that way we will be able to check on them.”

  The task takes Skylow mere seconds, after which he nods to Regent Voknor and Sharz.

  Voknor puts the Earth ship out of mind, and returns his thoughts to the question of the race at the center of the Galaxy. He wonders what the Kord found so fascinating about that area of space? Yet they never pressed for his fleet to investigate.

  He contacts Regents Hemlax and Jukalore and asks, “I would investigate this race at the center of our Galaxy. Join me!”

  Jukalore shakes his head as he replies, “I will be returning to my area, and leave you to your exploring!”

  Adding his thoughts, Hemlax states, “If we all go, then we leave this area exposed to Atlan attack.”

  Jukalore scowls, “You mean the central clans may get their shiny ships scratched!”

  Voknor agrees, “You’re both right! I shall go, and report my findings to you both.”

  “Voknor the explorer!” Hemlax exclaims, then with a grin adds, “That is what they will call you.”

  “Could be worse.” Voknor replies, then as his expression hardens, he warns, “If either of you see a Warmonger, flee!”

  Both Regents nod in agreement, then, with little farewell, Jukalore’s clan departs. Hemlax also moves on, as he does not like to stay in one place for too long.

  With a deep sigh, Voknor states, “I would feel much safer with our combined forces, but they are correct. Skylow, inform the fleet we are departing. Cushkull; avoid all known Atlan territories, and plot us a course for the Galactic core.”

  Cushkull shares his route options with Frazik, and then increases their detour, until finally he reports, “The best route is down, and under the Galactic disc; there have not been any reported contacts with the Atlans, or anyone else for that matter.”

  Regent Voknor reviews the route, then frowns at the time estimate; it will take a while, even by their standards. He stands, then orders, “Plot three to the target area. The sooner we arrive, the sooner we can depart.”

  Cushkull cringes, the estimates are based on the maximum speed of their slowest vessel, theirs!

  Mystery at the Galactic Core

  Regent Voknor stands and stares, baffled by the sight before them. A grid of hundreds, perhaps thousands, of large satellites, forms a wall, blocking their way to the Galactic core.

  Frazik stares at his data, astonished by what he sees, or rather is unable to see. He nervously reports, “All scans are being directed back at us. I am unable to obtain any information on what lies beyond that wall of satellites.”

  “Launch a probe!” Voknor orders, confidently.

  “We are being fired upon!” Shouts Frazik, alarmed.

  “At this range?” Queries Voknor, doubting Frazik’s report.

  An energy beam, one that is traveling faster than light, strikes the flagship. The beam washes over the shields, then scorches the hull plates beneath, before its energies are expended.

  “Move us farther away!” Voknor orders immediately.

  Machkno exclaims, “The energy required to fire at that distance is beyond anything we could do. Those satellites are at more than double our energy weapons’ range, and our pounders, even at maximum speed, would take a long time to hit.”

  The bridge crew watches as the nearest satellite turns to their probe, and destroys it with another energy beam. Another satellite then turns to Voknor’s vessel, and fires.

  Cushkull turns their craft away from the satellite, chastising himself for putting them in range of their weapons.

  The energy beam carves through the shields, and unexpectedly, into the hull. They all watch as atmosphere vents from a long gash. Damage control teams efficiently report to the breach, and immediately begin repairs.

  Voknor orders, “All Primes, move further away from the grid.”

  Frazik feels a chill run down his spine as he reports, “Eight satellites are turning, and I don’t think they are running away.”

  “Retreat!” Voknor orders, then states, “Cushkull, bring us around to another section of the grid, I would see how large this containment area is.”

  Time and time again, the fleet stops, scans, and then moves on.

  Frazik reviews another useless scan, then says, “The area inside, in theory, could contain hundreds of solar systems.”

  Machkno has been quiet, but finally shares his concerns, “Whoever they are. That defensive grid is powerful, I can only image what their fleets must be like!”

  Voknor shakes his head in annoyance. It is sheer luck that there have been no deaths.

  Frazik shouts, “Incoming energy beam!”

  “Evasive maneuvers!” Voknor orders unnecessarily.

  Cushkull curses, “We are at eight times the range of our energy weapons, and yet, clearly, are still in range of theirs.”

  The satellite’s powerful beam strikes the shields, then carves into the ship.

  Skylow is stunned by the damage report, and states, “That beam carved four decks deep!”

  Regent Voknor stares at Machkno for a moment, then realizes that he is putting his clan at risk, unnecessarily. He reluctantly orders, “Return us to our area of operations.”

  The clan travels for some time, and then receives an unexpected, and urgent, message from Hemlax, “Regent Voknor, respond!”

  “Open a channel” Voknor orders, then as soon as Hemlax appears questions, “Do you need help?”

  Hemlax relaxes, then says, “No. But we thought we lost you!”

  “Lost us?” Voknor queries.

  “Yes!” Hemlax states, “Your fleet vanished off our Navicon, and then when you did not respond to our communiques, we thought the worst.

  With a frown Voknor replies, “We were in close proximity to a massive defensive grid, one that seemingly encompasses hundreds of solar systems. I guess that grid puts out some sort of dampening field.” He adds.

  “Jukalore and I considered searching for you, but with little to go on, we decided to wait, and hope!” Hemlax states.

  “Well, we’re okay, but I would not recommend approaching the core. Whoever they are, their weapons are powerful.”

  Frazik then turns and says, “I am receiving an alert from the Earth ship, the one the humans called Terran!”

  Voknor frowns, then says, “Hemlax, I thank you for your concern. We shall be returning to our assigned area, once more, and stand ready to assist!”

  Hemlax raises his fist in a salute as he proclaims, “My clan stands with yours!”

  As soon as Hemlax’s features are gone, Voknor states, “What kind of alert?”

  Frazik reviews more data, then responds, “It was a while ago. A command level hull breach. The bridge lost atmosphere.”

  Skylow turns and says, “I am going over the ship’s status; I doubt there would be survivors from that.”

  Regent Voknor nods slowly, then orders, “Monitor the vessel, I would like to learn of its fate.” He is frustrated by their lack of success examining the Galactic core.

  The trek back to their territory will take some time, but that is a luxury the Gamin have. Regent Voknor discusses the upcoming Atlan Prophecy with his Primes, and shares his concern that they are already outclassed, and any new technology could see the end to them all. A few suggest that perhaps the Atlans are at war with another race, as there have been few encounters. Others comment that the Atlans are back on the war front, as each battle they do involve themselves in, is heavily in the Atlan’s favor.

  Earth Ship Terran />
  Frazik stares at his console and grins as he reports, “Someone just reconnected the Navicon on the Terran; We have full control.”

  “Contact them.” Voknor orders, unwittingly directing his annoyance at the Earth ship.

  The familiar image of the Terran, with its cables that snake out of the room, fills the main viewer. The man sitting in the command chair wears a uniform, one like those the sailors they captured were wearing.

  Voknor bluntly demands, “Who are you?”

  The uniformed man stands, then says, “I am Admiral Spenser, commander of the starship Terran, and you are?”

  Leaning closer, Voknor states, “I am Regent Voknor, and that is MY SHIP.”

  Spenser sits down, pats the chair, and arrogantly replies, “I beg to differ; we found an incomplete ship which your people abandoned.”

  Voknor angrily stabs at his console, cutting the communications channel. He gets out of his chair and states, “Who do they think they are?”

  Machkno offers, “Shall I destroy the ship?”

  Before he can reply, Lilpax asks, “I wonder what happened to George?”

  Voknor lifts his hand as he replies, “That is a good question. If he was wearing that suit, he would have survived.”

  Reopening the channel, Voknor questions, “Where is George?”

  Spenser frowns, then says, “George. George who? You’re speaking to the commander of the Terran.”

  Voknor narrows his eyes as he demands, “I will speak to George, or that female leader he respects.”

  Spenser does not know who Voknor is referring to, then in a flash of insight, responds, “Cindy? She’s no longer in command.”

  Voknor’s shouts, “I will say who is in command of that ship!”

  “I don’t think so,” Spenser smirks.

  Voknor once again cuts the communications, and immediately orders, “Shut that ship down!”

  Frazik taps on his console, and relays his actions, “Shutting down life support systems, artificial gravity, and the power grid. I expect their systems will not cope with the feedback.”

  Voknor restlessly taps on his armrests, then says, “This is one mystery I will resolve. Frazik, return that ship to normal operations.”

 

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