Declination

by David Derrico

  Daniel instinctively reached to shut the weapon down, but his hand froze over his control console. Without the Omega Cannon, he had no chance to stop the Lucani Ibron ship from destroying the planet below. A quick glance assured him that the counterattack had rendered all other weapons inoperative. The Admiral retracted his arm, settling it on his chair’s armrest. He let a long, slow breath escape his lungs.

  Unchecked, the Omega Cannon continued to collect power from the ship’s energy banks, far past the point at which the firing coil would have discharged the weapon. The sound became nearly unbearable, a piercing reverberation that caused the ship to tremble with the awesome power that the weapon continued to harvest. A small rivulet of blood trailed from Daniel’s left ear.

  It was too late to stop the reaction now, even had Daniel decided to. The Omega Cannon would continue to collect power until the charge simply became too great to be contained. What would happen when the weapon finally overloaded, Daniel could hardly speculate. All he knew for certain, is that it would be bad.

  * * * * *

  CHAPTER 20

  Zach had finally tired of struggling against his invisible restraints, as his best efforts had not yielded the slightest hint that he could escape from their clutches. But he knew something was afoot. It felt to Zach as if the ship had emerged into realspace, which meant that they must be approaching another planet. And the rumbling sound that echoed throughout the ship had seemingly reached a fever pitch. Zach knew the aliens’ superweapon was nearly fully charged.

  Suddenly, a visible distortion played across the walls in Zach’s field of vision. The ship was beset by a series of small vibrations, and Zach tried in vain to find some clue of what was going on. “Maybe we’re attacking,” Zach wondered aloud, just to hear the sound of his own voice again. He scanned what part of his surroundings he was able, and began his struggles to break free anew.

  The ship shuddered, and a high-pitched buzzing sound assailed Zach’s ears. The walls flickered, and Zach could make out a group of luminous blurs on the far side. He felt a tingle in his wrists and ankles, and he jerked up with all his might, ripping his hands free from the table, which shimmered momentarily before it re-solidified.

  Zach leapt from the table, crashing into the ground as his legs failed to support him. He shook himself to get his blood flowing again, and got back to his feet, walking to the far wall of the room. He reached out, but jerked his hand back as it encountered some sort of electrical field where the wall should be. He recoiled from the shock, and looked for any exit from the room. But all around were plain white walls, ceiling, and floor. Zach stepped back three steps, rolled his head from his left shoulder to his right, and dove at the wall before him.

  Energy coursed through the Commander’s body, and he sailed through the wall, crashing to the ground on the far side. He struggled to his feet, his every nerve tingling. Zach balled his hands into fists as he looked around him. He was surrounded by a half-dozen Lucani Ibron.

  A voice tunneled itself into his mind. “Congratulations on your escape,” it remarked stoically. “You can watch us destroy another one of your worlds.”

  “No!” he screamed, and lunged at the nearest Lucani Ibron. The shock he received when he touched the creature was much more severe, and he crumpled to the ground, dazed.

  “Your fellow humans dare not destroy us, knowing you are on board,” the voice continued. “You see they only attack us with ineffective energy weapons. We will complete our primary objective. We will destroy the planet.” The voice paused. “And then we will destroy that ship.”

  Zach staggered back to his feet, noting that the ever-present rumbling had finally ceased.

  Almost without thinking, Zach pounded at the displays around the perimeter of the room, his arms passing through the insubstantial manifestations with no effect. He looked to the main display, where a yellow, desert planet loomed defenselessly. Off to the side, a small ship continued to pour ion cannon fire into the vessel. Each impact resulted in nothing more than an almost imperceptible flicker of the displays and the gentle vibration of the ship.

  Zach looked around the bridge for something to throw, something to strike the Lucani Ibron with. But there was nothing but energy and light, and nothing that Zach Wallace could do.

  . . . . .

  The Cerberus strained to break the hold of the planet’s gravity, rising through the last traces of atmosphere and into space. Dex and Zip peered at their tactical consoles, while Retro concentrated on piloting the transport away from the planet.

  “There!” shouted Zip, and Retro veered toward a pair of ships far from the planet. Dex’s tactical display confirmed that the human vessel was the Apocalypse. He did not need help identifying the other ship.

  “Get us out there,” Dex ordered, rising from his seat. He glanced between the viewscreen and his displays as the lethargic Cerberus closed the distance to the dueling ships.

  The Apocalypse was firing on the Lucani Ibron ship, but had just been struck by an intense ball of white light, and now coasted lifelessly toward its enemy. Dex pounded his control console, cursing the sluggish transport. The battle would be over far before he could intervene.

  Dex increased the magnification on the viewscreen and could see that the nose of the Apocalypse had split open to reveal a great cannon, and sparks of electricity arced along its length. As he watched, current surged across the entire hull of the ship, enveloping the Apocalypse in a sheath of dazzling energy. Still the resplendent vessel tracked toward the Lucani Ibron.

  “Is that supposed to happen?” asked Zip.

  Dex shook his head, straining his eyes at the faraway ship. In an instant, his heart froze.

  The electricity surrounding the Apocalypse became intensely bright, and a magnificent explosion engulfed the ship, nearly filling the viewscreen even at this distance. A shock wave of blindingly pure energy expanded outward, swallowing the Lucani Ibron ship and forcing Dex to cover his eyes.

  “My God,” he cried. “It can’t be.”

  The blast slowly subsided, leaving nothing in its wake. The Lucani Ibron ship was gone, but so too was the Apocalypse.

  . . . . .

  Anastasia sat in stunned silence. Time slowed as the image finally disappeared from the viewscreen, but remained permanently etched in her retinas. Zach was on board the ship she had come to destroy, the ship that had itself come to destroy a planet and all its inhabitants. She could not simply let the alien executioners do what they came to do.

  But she could just as surely not bring herself to kill her friend Zach Wallace.

  It was Victor who snapped her from her trance. “Captain,” he said. “What do we do?”

  The Captain was slow to respond, as too many thoughts and emotions fought for her attention. She knew her mission, what she had to do. She had to stop the Lucani Ibron at all costs.

  At all costs?

  Would killing Zach be just too much for her to bear?

  Anastasia shook her head. She realized that the decision may very well not be hers to make, and that thought enraged her. She still had no idea how she would destroy the Lucani Ibron ship.

  The Captain looked to Victor. “We have to stop that ship.”

  The Inferno continued to pump ion cannon fire into the enemy vessel. Anastasia had thought the weapons might somehow disrupt either the Lucani Ibron themselves or their ship, but they seemed to have no effect. It would take far more to breach the exotic armour, perhaps the Wind of Death combined with some other powerful form of attack.

  The Captain realized she was going in circles. There could be no other attack once the Wind of Death fired.

  “What can we hit that ship with?” asked Victor. “We need help. We needed those other ships to attack while we fired the Wind of Death.”

  “Those ships are gone,” the Captain reminded him, disappointed in his defeatist tone. “We’ll have to do it ourselves.”

  The Lucani Ibron ship, still ignoring them, had approached to wit
hin two hundred thousand kilometers of the planet. It stopped there, hovering above the tan sphere of Cordova. The vessel’s skin changed its rhythm, and a small white point appeared in its center.

  Without thinking, the Captain cried out, “Charge the Wind of Death! Maybe we can at least disrupt it from firing.”

  Ariyana looked back to the Captain. “Even if it works, wouldn’t it kill Zach?”

  Anastasia ground her teeth together. “I don’t know. Maybe the ship’s hull will protect him.” She stared at the ship that held her friend. Her lips silently mouthed the words, “I’m sorry. I have no other choice.”

  A bright beam of light shot from the nose of the Lucani Ibron ship, embedding itself in the planet below.

  “This is it,” Anastasia sighed. “Prepare to fire.”

  “Maybe you were right,” Cody laughed humorlessly. “If this doesn’t work, maybe our only option will be to get out and throw rocks at the damned thing.”

  “Hold it,” ordered the Captain, her mind racing furiously. “That’s it! Byron, load the side missile tubes—every type of warhead we have. Conventional, nuclear, Hellfire—the works. Target the Lucani Ibron ship and fire.”

  “But, Captain,” he stammered, clearly flustered. “Don’t you mean the forward missile tubes?”

  “No! The side tubes! Launch them now!”

  Byron complied, and with a series of hissing sounds, a dozen warheads fired from the Inferno, half to each side, and began slowly arcing back toward the Lucani Ibron.

  “You’re a goddamned genius!” shouted Victor, realizing her plan. “Firing Wind of Death … now.”

  The Captain nodded, whispering a silent prayer as the weapon discharged.

  A hazy, rippling distortion cascaded from the Inferno in all directions. The wave front flowed toward the enemy ship, the light beam still emanating from its face. From each side of the viewscreen, a half-dozen missiles slammed into the alien vessel, each erupting with a distinct flash. The alien hull solidified, repulsing the attack, but, as the barrage continued, the effect wave reached the bizarre craft and enveloped the ship. The hull deformed as the undulating spectacle surrounded it, becoming translucent, then shimmering away into nothingness. A group of light-beings remained, surrounding the body of a single human.

  “Cody!” shrieked the Captain. “Get us over there!”

  Cody already had the ship moving. “Engines are off-line,” he reminded her. “I’m using maneuvering thrusters.”

  The Captain punched the intercom button. “Vance, get to the airlock right away. We’re picking someone up.”

  Ariyana looked back to the Captain, her hand covering her mouth. “How long can he survive like that?”

  Victor answered for her. “About thirty seconds, if he’s strong.” He looked to the Captain.

  Her voice was hoarse. “He’s strong,” she gasped, her hand balled into a fist and covering her trembling lips.

  Cody switched the viewscreen to show the view from the airlock on the belly of the ship. He expertly raised the nose of the Inferno, gliding the ship over the body, and guiding it into the opening airlock.

  “Vance,” the Captain shouted, “pressurize that airlock now!”

  “Already on it,” he replied, and if he said anything further, the Captain did not hear it. She was already dashing down the corridor to the airlock. When the inner door opened, she was there, and rushed in to the shivering form of Zach Wallace on the floor. She cradled his head in her arms, and felt his breath on her arm, ragged, shallow, and cold. But alive, very much alive.

  . . . . .

  The Commander buried his head in his hands, expelling a tortured breath with an audible, anguished wail. This time, Dex did not even try to fight the tears. He let them come, warm and burning on his face. His mind reflexively thought back to the years he had known Daniel Atgard—the experiences, the adventures, the friendship with a man Dex respected more than any he had ever known. At that moment, he knew nothing but pain.

  “Commander,” injected Zip. “Commander, I’m sorry. But we have an incoming transmission.”

  Dex bit his lip, completely unconcerned with whoever was trying to contact him. Almost automatically, he replied, “On screen.”

  The Commander did not look up until he heard the speaker’s voice.

  “Hey, Dex,” it called. “I could use a little help over here.”

  Dex stared directly into the face of Daniel Atgard.

  “B–But, sir,” Dex stammered. “You’re dead.”

  “Thanks, Dex,” Daniel replied. “You look like hell yourself.”

  “But, I don’t understand.” Even as he said it, the Commander looked to his tactical console. Drifting in space was a tiny fighter, identified by the computer as a ZF-232, the type of ship carried in the Apocalypse’s miniscule hangar bay. The Commander smiled. “You son of a bitch.”

  “I had to get off the Apocalypse,” Daniel explained. “So I took the fighter. I made sure to fire a few missiles at the Lucani Ibron just as my old ship exploded.”

  Dex was speechless.

  “So,” continued the Admiral, “are you going to pick me up, or what?”

  * * * * *

  CHAPTER 21

  Daniel brushed himself off as he extracted himself from the diminutive fighter, squeezed into the Cerberus’ hangar bay with the larger dropshuttle. He dropped to the metal deck and walked to where Dex was waiting for him.

  “It’s good to see you, sir,” Dex saluted, his features firm. Daniel smiled, and the Commander stepped over to him, gripping him in a warm embrace. “I thought you were gone,” he whispered into the Admiral’s ear.

  Daniel clapped his friend on the back. “I’m not ready to go quite yet.”

  Zip interrupted their reunion. “Sir, you told me to inform you when Captain Mason arrived.”

  “Thank you,” replied the Commander. “Admiral, would you accompany me to the bridge?”

  Daniel nodded and walked down the short hallway, and found Anastasia’s face beaming at him from the viewscreen once he stepped onto the bridge.

  “Good to see you, Daniel,” she said. “I’m glad everyone’s all right.” She looked to Zach, who was sitting in a chair to her left.

  “Good to see you as well,” the Admiral replied. “And we’re glad to have you back with us, Zach.”

  “Thanks, sir,” he replied, shuddering. “I don’t want to see the inside or outside of another Lucani Ibron ship ever again.”

  As if on cue, both Zip from the Cerberus and Byron from the Inferno rang an alarm.

  “Incoming ships!”

  The bridge of the Inferno was removed from the viewscreen, replaced by a quartet of ships. Three were clearly Lucani Ibron. The fourth, ringed by the other three, had a skin composed of the same convolving silvery metal. But it was much larger, and asymmetrical in shape, with a sharp, pointed nose jutting from an ovoid fuselage. It was easily larger than the other three ships combined.

  Daniel rubbed his eyes, sure the apparitions were merely a mirage. They had destroyed all three ships. But there they were, dwarfed by the ominous flagship.

  And if they were a mirage, merely a result of Daniel’s recent over-stimulating experiences, then why had the jaws of every person in the room suddenly become unhinged?

  A voice carried into the Admiral’s mind. It said, simply, “Do not attack.”

  Daniel raised an eyebrow. Under the circumstances, it seemed to be excellent advice.

  Anastasia’s face reappeared on the viewscreen. “What do we do, Admiral? My power reserves are drained. There’s just no way …” Her voice trailed off.

  The Lucani Ibron spoke to them again. “You have proven to be worthy adversaries, humans. The time has come to reevaluate the situation.”

  “And who are you?” asked the Admiral.

  “I am The Unity.”

  Anastasia looked perplexed. “How did your ships get here so quickly?”

  “The ships are not here,” the voice replied. “They are
merely a projection.” It paused for a moment. “You are in no danger.”

  “You refer to yourself as The Unity,” Daniel said. “What does that mean?”

  “The Unity is the repository of knowledge and experience for our race. It is The Unity who leads, and The Unity who pronounces judgement.”

  With those words, Daniel stiffened. “So you are responsible for the attempted genocide of our race?”

  The voice did not hesitate, did not show any hint of emotion. “The Unity is responsible for the judgement entered against you.”

  “A judgement that condemns an entire race to death for the reprehensible actions of a handful of its members.”

  “The primitive and warlike tendencies of your race led to the creation of several more forbidden weapons. And these same tendencies led us to believe that their repeated use was inevitable.”

  “So we were all guilty, merely because the Omega Cannon existed?” asked the Admiral.

  “The weapons needed to be removed, for the safety and stability of the Universe.”

  Daniel fought to keep his emotions in check. “But you butchered whole planets!”

  “The original plan was to destroy all forbidden weapons, and to completely eliminate the possibility that more would be produced. To that end, we set out to destroy all individuals and facilities capable of producing such weapons.”

  Anastasia’s head perked up. “The original plan?” she interjected.

  “The Unity has reassessed the situation. Your actions have shown a respect for innocent life, and a predilection to avoid the use of forbidden weapons, even when you have access to them. Daniel Atgard, you once refused to use your ship’s forbidden weapon in an inhabited system. Anastasia Mason, you have repeatedly declined to use your cascade-matrix weapon against enemies, instead relying on less-effective but unforbidden conventional weapons. The Unity sees hope for the future of your species.”